ƬHΣ ШΔΓΓIΘΓЅ GΔΜΣЅ
by SwiftintheSky
Summary: The Dark Forest has won. Now, 24 cats are chosen out of all 4 Clans to compete in a battle to the death in the first annual Warriors Games. Will your favorites survive? (Back to updating - no update schedule, so it may be sporadic)
1. Chapter 1: Dovewing

The cats sat stiffly in front of the Great Oak, still and anxious, peering up at the shadow-wreathed branches. Some were sobbing or tearing up; others' faces were masks of anger, while still others pressed close to their loved ones as though they were afraid of losing them. Barely any stars dared show their faces tonight, and the moon hid under cold fog, obscuring the island in deathly shadow. Most cats bore the marks of claws and fangs, stiff and aching from recent, brutal battles.

Dovewing was among them. She pressed her pale gray pelt to Whitewing's, who was looking up with an almost pained expression on her face, her claws working in the earth. Up in the branches of the trees, several ghostly silhouettes shimmered against the night, their pelts slightly translucent, some more than others. One of the cats poised on the leafy limbs was Tigerstar, his amber eyes glinting with delighted malice. On another branch on the other side of the tree was Brokenstar, his claws digging into the bark. On a lower branch Hawkfrost stood, his icy blue eyes as unnerving as ever. And finally, his muzzle curled into a slight smile, was the former medicine cat Hawkheart.

And clustered at the foot of the Great Oak, staring out smugly and self-assuredly at their former Clanmates, were the traitors. The cats that had betrayed their Clans and gone over to the dark side. Blossomfall was there, the cat she had grown up with, trained with. And Birchfall. _Her father._ A choked whimper escaped her throat, and Whitewing pressed closer to her, lying her tail over her daughter's paws. However, Whitewing's eyes were dark with sorrow; Birchfall was her mate, after all, and he had betrayed her. When the Great Battle had come, Ivypool had revealed her true colors as a noble ThunderClan warrior, but the Dark Forest... the Dark Forest won. Both the spies, Ivypool and Tigerheart, had been tossed back to the Clans, with dark promises of torture and death. Ivypool shivered beside Dovewing now, and Dovewing knew that the Dark Forest kept their promises.

There were several other traitors from each Clan, as well. ShadowClan's Redwillow, Ratscar, and Applefur sat proudly, looking out over their defeated former Clanmates. From WindClan, Breezepelt, Furzepelt, and Sunstrike smiled smugly. And Icewing, Beetlewhisker, Hollowflight, and Minnowtail, all from RiverClan, were clustered in a tight, menacing bunch.

"Cats of the Clans," Tigerstar began, almost in a purr. "We will now decide each Clan's tributes for the first annual Warrior Games." Dovewing's ears flattened. She could still remember the outrage, horror, shock, and fear she had felt when she had first heard of this barbaric idea. Those emotions still swamped her, only slightly muted, as she stared, defeated, up at Tigerstar.

"They were decided randomly," he went on. "No one was picked for any particular reason. The number of tributes for each Clan was determined by their size. ThunderClan, as it is disproportionately large, will have the most." He really did purr the last sentence, and Dovewing cringed. "I will have the pleasure of announcing their tributes. When your name is called, step forward to the foot of the Great Oak."

He began. "ThunderClan will contribute ten of the twenty-four tributes." _What?_ Dovewing thought, shocked. _No... Ten of my Clanmates killed, for the Dark Forests' sadistic pleasure..._ Her legs shook, and for a moment she thought she might pass out. "First, Brambleclaw."_Our deputy?_ she thought.

"No, Brambleclaw!" Squirrelflight cried out. He barely acknowledged her as he stalked stiffly to the base of the Great Oak, where Birchfall and Blossomfall gazed expressionlessly back at him.

"Graystripe." Tigerstar continued. Dovewing thought she saw Blossomfall flinch, and was that - ? Yes, her claws were digging into the ground. _If you hate this so much, fight back!_ she thought. But she knew the battle was already lost. And Blossomfall was too far into the ranks of the Dark Forest, too long held by their power, to come back to the light.

"Brightheart."

Cloudtail gasped, his face a mask of rage. "How could you, you fox-hearted cowards?" Tigerstar's eyes flashed. But Brightheart quieted him, her single eye dark with sorrow, and stepped forward.

"Squirrelflight and Leafpool." _What? Both of the sisters? How could they?_ But Dovewing knew very well they could. Firestar's tail drooped, his shoulders hunched, his eyes clouded. He looked utterly defeated. His best friend and both of his deputies were going into the Games, most likely never to return. _Random, my foot,_ Dovewing thought bitterly. [Quick A/N: No matter what Dovewing thinks, they WERE random. I just got lucky. ] Sandstorm covered both of them in last-minute licks, nearly hysterical. _Squirrelflight will have to fight her former mate, and her sister..._ she thought sadly.

"Hazeltail and Rosepetal." Daisy let out a heartbroken wail. _What?_ Dovewing thought in shock. _Two of her daughters? This just isn't right!_

"Bumblestripe." Blossomfall's claws dug deeper into the earth, sorrow clouding her gaze before she screwed her eyes shut. Now, Graystripe and his son would both be in the Games. Millie looked shattered, winding anxiously around her son, and then pressing her pelt to the only cat she had left in the world, now that Graystripe and Bumblestripe would die and Blossomfall was a traitor: Briarlight. Dovewing's eyes squeezed shut as the young tom stepped forth. In the past moons, they had grown closer, but now... now she would probably never see him again.

"Daisy." A collective gasp rose from the crowd. _Daisy?_ Dovewing thought. _She can't fight at all! And two of her daughers are in the Games as well!_ Daisy let out a moan, but padded forth, head bowed, with no more complaint. Dovewing guessed she would rather die with her daughters, than watch them die without her.

"And last, but not least..." Tigerstar's muzzle held a slight smile. _I'll bet it's going to be Firestar,_ Dovewing thought grimly. "ThunderClan's last tribute..." Dovewing looked up, pricking her ears to hear him better...

"Dovewing."


	2. Chapter 2: Dovewing

**A/N: No reviews yet? Aww... Well, this is a crossover, and 'tis to be expected. :/**

* * *

Shock swirled through Dovewing, a raging hurricane of disbelief and denial. _No! Not me! I can't die this way! I can't! I-I'm one of the Three!_ But Dovewing knew very well that the Three had failed, and that there was no hope. Beside her, Ivypool stiffened, her blue eyes wide. "Sister..." she murmured.

Dovewing's legs shook as she stood, walking slowly through the crowd. The cats parted around her like water around a stone. Her paws felt as if they were barely touching the ground, like she was floating. It was all so surreal, like she was dreaming, and she would wake up any moment in the warriors' den with Ivypool by her side... As she reached the front of the crowd, her eyes darkened. This wasn't a dream. She was going to die. She was going to die a horrible, painful, pointless death, and she knew it. She reached the crowd of condemned ThunderClan cats, slipping in beside Rosepetal. She forced her sky-blue eyes to lift from the ground in order to look at the cat she had trusted, loved, for so much of her life... Birchfall. _Do you even care that I will die now?_

Birchfall's face was a mask of shock. He whispered something furiously to Blossomfall, who shook her head. His eyes darkened, his claws picking at the moss. _At least he even _cares, Dovewing thought bitterly. _But he won't do anything about it. He never will. And neither will Blossomfall._

Tigerstar had moved on to the next Clan. ShadowClan. Dovewing listened almost disinterestedly, jadedly, as he proclaimed how many of their cats would meet gruesome, pointless deaths. "And from ShadowClan... five cats will be chosen." Dovewing bit back a yelp. _Five? But there were _ten_ from ThunderClan! This isn't _fair! "Brokenstar, you may have the pleasure of announcing them," Tigerstar went on smoothly.

Brokenstar stood up from a lower branch, looking smug and pleased with himself. His long dark brown fur puffed out in all directions, his broken tail held straight up, except for where it bent in the middle like a snapped twig. "The first ShadowClan contestant will be... Crowfrost," he started. Dovewing watched as a black-and-white to m with icy eyes stepped from the crowd; Dovewing had never seen him before, but she winced as he stood in front of his former Clanmates - Ratscar, Redwillow, and Applefur - and they didn't look like they regretted their choice a bit.

"Tawnypelt," he went on, rolling the word on his tongue so it came out almost a purr, like, "Taawwwnyypelllllt." Several shocked yowls rose from the crowd; Tigerheart was on his feet, looking distraught, while Rowanclaw turned away; Dovewing realized with a shock how hard this would make the Games for several of the ThunderClan cats. She was Brambleclaw's sister, and she had gone on the Great Journey and trip to Midnight with Squirrelflight. Dovewing was saddened as the dark tortoiseshell picked her way up to the fore; she'd seemed a decent cat. That's when Dovewing fully realized what this meant for _her_. Every new cat who stepped up now, would be a potential enemy for her to fight. A potential cat that could kill her... or be killed by her. Dovewing shuddered, watching the new tributes be chosen with new eyes.

"Olivenose." Dovewing hadn't known this cat, but the next name chosen sent shock pulsing through her entire body.

"Tigerheart." Brokenstar's amber eyes glittered with cruel pleasure as he called this name, purring it into the night. He looked as though he relished that the cat whom had spied for the Dark Forest would meet a horrible death. Shock rippled through Dovewing. _No..._ Her claws dug into the ground. _I _can't_ fight him, I _can't! Tigerheart didn't even look surprised as he stepped up, and a fresh wave of sorrow wiped over Dovewing as she realized he was in the Games with his mother, Tawnypelt.

Pinenose was called last of all. Dovewing had no idea who he was, but he looked so young he must have been a freshly made warrior, which saddened her.

"Now, for WindClan." Tigerstar dipped his head to a Dark Forest cat known as Hawkheart. He was a mottled dark brown tom, with glittering yellow eyes.

"Five tributes will be taken from WindClan, as well," he stated, calmly and coldly, his gaze raking across the assembled cats. "The first cat randomly picked... was Ashfoot."

Gasps rose from the assembled WindClan cats as they learned their deputy would be taken from them. "Who will be our deputy now?" someone cried out, but they were quickly silenced with vigorous shushing. The condemned, aging gray cat stepped forward, managing to look dignified as she did so, and settled beside her former Clanmates turned traitor: Breezepelt, Sunstrike, and Furzepelt.

"Crowfeather." Dovewing couldn't believe her ears. The stakes kept raising. She realized with a cold feeling, that random or not, all of the remainin cats who had gone on the journey to Midnight had been chosen. Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, Tawnypelt, and now Crowfeather. What awaited the old comrades in the vicious Games ahead? And Leafpool... she and Crowfeather had been mates. What would happen to them? Dovewing's gaze searched out Breezepelt's, and she instantly felt chilled to the bone. The WindClan warrior didn't look the least bit sorrowful that his father was about to die a horrible death; instead, a look of cold satisfaction curled his muzzle. _What has the Dark Forest done to these cats?_ she thought, horrified.

"Whitetail," Hawkheart went on. Dovewing turned away sadly as the white WindClan warrior came up. Back when she was an apprentice, she had gone on the trip to the beaver dam with the noble WindClan she-cat. Now, she might have to face her in battle.

Harespring was called next, and then the last cat: "Heathertail." The pale brown tabby she-cat looked shocked, then angry, her claws digging into the ground. There came a hurt gasp, and now Dovewing spotted Breezepelt, his face a twisted mask of shock, pain, and fury. _They must have been lovers,_ she realized. She couldn't help but think, _Now you see what you've done. Now you understand! Serves you right if you lose someone you love._ Dovewing instantly felt terrible for thinking it, but she couldn't help it.

"And last but not least..." Tigerstar meowed, "RiverClan. They will give up four cats. Hawkfrost?"

Hawkfrost dipped his head, ice-blue eyes glittering unnervingly. He first called forth Pebblefoot, followed by Petalfur. Dovewing was particularly dismayed by this last choice, as Petalfur had also gone to the beaver dam with her. Dovewing noticed that both Minnowtail and Beetlewhisker among RiverClan's Dark Forest traitors looked a little disturbed. She remembered that Pebblefoot was Minnowtail's brother, while Petalfur was Beetlewhisker's littermate. Then Grasspelt was called forward; Beetlewhisker let out a moan and buried his face in Minnowtail's shoulder. Both of his littermates, being sacrificed to the Games. _It's only now that they're realizing their mistakes,_ Dovewing thought sadly.

The last cat chosen from RiverClan was Rushtail. Then Tigerstar stood, his dark tabby pelt silhouetted in the moonlight. "That is twenty-four cats, twenty-four cats for the now-annual Warrior Games. For review...

"Ten from ThunderClan: Brambleclaw, Graystripe, Brightheart, Squirrelflight, Leafpool, Hazeltail, Rosepetal, Bumblestripe, Daisy, and Dovewing.

"Five from ShadowClan: Crowfrost, Tawnypelt, Olivenose, Tigerheart, and Pinenose.

"Five from WindClan: Ashfoot, Crowfeather, Whitetail, Harespring, and Heathertail.

"And four from RiverClan: Pebblefoot, Petalfur, Grasspelt, and Rushtail.

"That will be all. Gathering dismissed," Tigerstar finished. Dovewing's heart sank as the Clans swirled from the Island, their tributes alone in the ominous night, surrounded by traitors and Dark Forest cats. She was alone now. She was alone, and as good as dead.


	3. Chapter 3: Brightheart

**A/N: Yay, new chapter! And whew, I was beginning to think no one would ever review. This IS a crossover, though; 'tis to be expected. Anyway.**

**Swiftshimmer - Thank you! And ooh, I love the use of 'Swift' in your name. In Warriors-related things, I go by Swiftshade. :3**

**Sakura Waldorf - Thanks. I try to keep it entertaining. :)**

* * *

"Okay, right this way, everyone," came a malevolent purr. Brightheart's one eye flashed up, catching sight of Hawkfrost's ghostly form a foxlength or so away. She felt a paw nudge her flank, and she whipped around, fixing the cat with a gaze of blue fire. Birchfall. Birchfall. Of course it was Birchfall. Her son-in-law, Birchfall, leading his mother-in-law and daughter off to their deaths. He flinched, and for a moment she thought she saw sorrow flickering in his amber depths; but it vanished as quickly as it had come, like mist on a sunny day, and he glared pointedly at her. With a quiet growl, she bounded forward to search for her granddaughter.

Brightheart found Dovewing with her ears flattened and eyes down, looking as though she was in shock. Before Brightheart could reach the young cat, however, there was a loud mew and Bumblestripe bounded up to her, lying a tail-tip on her flank. Brightheart watched sadly; in these cruel Games, love could bring only heartbreak.

The cats had rounded the side of the island, urged on by the Dark Forest cats and their traitorous earthly puppets. Dug down into the sandy shore were a row of dens, which they started to shove the unlucky tributes towards. "Oh, StarClan," Brightheart muttered under her breath, and dug her claws into the sand.

"Get in," came a sudden growl on her blind side. Startled, Brightheart whirled with a hiss, and in a flash she found herself on the ground, scarred cheek smarting. She scrambled to her paws and bared her teeth, staring straight into Thistleclaw's sneering face. With great self-control, Brightheart stepped into a den. Two more cats crowded in around her at the Dark Forest cats' prodding - Squirrelflight and Leafpool. _What a pity both of them were chosen,_ she thought with a pang.

Tigerstar's deep rumbling voice, honeyed and dripping with false goodwill and sarcasm, raked on Brightheart's ear. "These will be your quarters until the Games begin. Tomorrow, the Clans will come together again for the assigning of mentors, about one to every two tributes." He chuckled darkly. "Sweet dreams, tributes."

Squirrelflight bristled beside her, but didn't have enough time to say anything before a boulder rolled over the entrance, sealing them inside in pitch blackness.

* * *

The next morning dawned pale and chilly, with mist wreathing around the tributes' dismal prisons. Brightheart blinked open her single eye to complete darkness. Suddenly, savage snarling and yapping broke out outside the den. Brightheart felt Squirrelflight and Leafpool jolt awake on either side of her, fur bristling. There was a _smack_, a single yelp, and silence.

Pawsteps sounded close outside the den; there was a grunt, and the boulder rolled away, revealing Darkstripe's ghostly form outlined by the pale sun. "What was _that?_" Squirrelflight growled, and Brightheart craned her neck around Darkstripe's slim shoulders. A gasp escaped her throat.

Several Clan traitors were dragging a _fox's_ unconscious body across the shore. All, including the fox, were marred by scratches oozing crimson blood. The fox's tongue lolled out, its bright tail lying limply in the sand; if it weren't for the labored rise and fall of its chest, Brightheart would have thought it was dead. The warriors dragged it another tail-length and shoved it into another of a large set of dens, blocking the entrance with a heavy stone as it slid limply into the burrow.

"But how - why - " Brightheart spluttered, flabbergasted.

Darkstripe grinned wickedly. "I expect you'll meet up with that fox again," he meowed, "in the Games." With that he tossed in a couple of mice and left, leaving Brightheart with a sinking feeling of dread.

* * *

Time crawled by agonizingly slowly. The Dark Forest warriors would not permit the tributes to leave their cramped prisons, except to make dirt. But finally, _finally, _the moon rose in the darkening sky, and the tributes were ushered from their dens and around the side of the island. Brightheart noticed, with a growing sense of doom, that a long set of larger, blocked-off burrows stretched on the shore directly opposite the tributes' dens. Burrows for holding foxes and badgers and other threats to attack the cats.

The tributes were herded in front of the Great Oak, clustered by Clan, with the traitors from each flanking them with unsheathed claws. Several Dark Forest warriors - Tigerstar, Brokenstar, Hawkfrost, Mapleshade, Thistleclaw - swarmed into the Oak's leafy branches as a Clan leader would.

_I'll see them one last time,_ Brightheart thought, almost hopefully. _I'll see Cloudtail and Whitewing and Ivypool, one last time..._ She knew they were there, for every leader, deputy, medicine cat, warrior, and apprentice had been required to attend. Only queens, kits, and elders had been left behind.

"Cats of the Clans..." As Tigerstar addressed the assembled cats, a flash of white in the ThunderClan section caught Brightheart's eye. _There!_ Cloudtail, Whitewing, and Ivypool were all clustered together among the ThunderClan cats. Cloudtail, his face a mask of hate and rage, so passionate Brightheart was nearly swept off her paws; Whitewing, her face tear-streaked and hysteric as she buried her muzzle in her remaining daughter's shoulder; Ivypool, her gaze bleak and hopeless as she gazed wordlessly up at Tigerstar. Brightheart felt a powerful burst of love for all three of them, and regret that she had to leave them so soon, as well as a blast of sympathy for her daughter. Whitewing's mate had betrayed her and the Clan; her mother and daughter would be killed in the Games; and her other daughter would soon be killed for betraying the Dark Forest. What did she have left to live for?

"...so I will assign a mentor of each Clan to every two or three cats," Tigerstar was finishing. "The mentors and tributes can work out who will train with whom."

"From ThunderClan, the following mentors have been chosen," Tigerstar began. "Dustpelt." The brown tabby looked up, startled. "Sandstorm." Squirrelflight and Leafpool stiffened beside Brightheart, looking surprised. "Brackenfur." _Brackenfur!_ Her older brother - that was a spot of good fortune. "Mousefur." The old cat would have a lot to teach, she supposed. "And Cloudtail." _Cloudtail!_ Brightheart's mind raced, her heart hammering into overdrive. _Oh, Cloudtail..._

The chosen mentors stepped up to join the tributes, and the moment Cloudtail set paw in the crowd Brightheart surged up to him, winding around him, drinking in his scent, purring madly. He purred back, resting his muzzle on her back, tail-tip swishing across her uninjured cheek. So ecstatic was she, she almost missed the announcement of the other Clans' mentors...

"...Cedarheart and Rowanclaw." The ShadowClan deputy and an elder of the same Clan stepped up to join their Clanmates; Tawnypelt pressed herself to her mate witha soft purr and a lick to his ear.

"From WindClan, Tornear and Onestar." _Onestar!_ That was certainly surprising.

"And for RiverClan, Reedwhisker and Dapplenose." The deputy and crippled she-cat stepped up to weave around their friends and Clanmates.

"Mentors are to report to the Island from sunrise to sunset daily, including today. That will be all."

Brightheart's gaze followed the Clans as they swarmed from the Island, weary and much diminished in size, leaving her pressed to her mate and wondering what was to come.


	4. Chapter 4: Tigerheart

**A/N: Hello again, guys! Two more reviews, yay.**

**Eversmile-the-Weird - Aww, thank you very much! Your wish is granted. *bows***

**FinnickLove - Thanks! Judging by your name, you're a Hunger Games fan. Probably a Warriors one too, if you like this so much. ;)**

* * *

_Three days. Three days since we were crammed into these burrows and told we were doomed. Three days since they tore us from our Clans, twenty-four of us, and chose twelve to teach us how to die._

_ Seven days since they won.  
_

Those were the thoughts that raced through Tigerheart's mind each morning, ran through his head each evening. The mantra that kept him up late at night, torturing him in the dark hour of moonhigh as he shifted his body, trying to escape from the heat that flowed from Tawnypelt and Pinenose on either side of him.

Each and every day, the heavy stones in front of their dens were shoved aside by leering former Clanmates, small meals tossed in and devoured. They would be herded around the Island, each Clan with its own quartered section. There they trained and trained and trained and trained and trained some more, leaping and fighting and pinning each other down, dodging and ducking and swiping and biting and kicking.

But when they got a break from the training...

When they weren't tucked away in their tiny little dens...

When they weren't separated in their own parts of the Island...

his thoughts were on her.

Dovewing. Her fluffy, pale gray pelt, so beautiful, but becoming dustier every day. Her sky-blue eyes, that once glimmered at every hour of the day, now listless and defeated as she returned to her den each evening; determined as she headed for training each morning; and with a slight glow of warmth as she gazed at [i]_him[/i]. _Bumblestripe.

He tried not to think about it. He tried to absorb himself in his training, so his only thoughts were dodge this, duck that, jump on him, pin down her. Each morning and evening he fixed his gaze on Tawnypelt's shoulders or Rowanclaw's whiskers, trying to keep himself from even glancing in her direction.

But during the long sleepless hours, she crept into his mind. She implored him with bright eyes the color of the lake on a warm greenleaf day. She purred to him, whispering, _You know what you must do._

* * *

The fourth morning, the Dark Forest traitors had their tributes assemble in a crowd, facing the slate-gray waters of the lake. Wispy clouds floated in the sky or weaved around them, and the sun painted the horizon over the moors with soft shades of cream and marigold and pink. Then, slowly, the outline shimmering against the hazy backdrop, came Tigerstar, his ghostly form materializing slowly onto the cool damp beach. Beside him came others: Hawkfrost, Mapleshade, Brokenstar, Thistleclaw.

A low growl rumbled deep in Tigerheart's throat. _Tigerstar._ His grandfather, Tawnypelt's father, condemning them both to death.

He began in a smooth purr, saying that it was time for them to know more about the nature of the Games. Tigerheart wanted to race up there and rake his claws across Tigerstar's smug face.

Hawkfrost began speaking first. Kin. He was Tigerheart's _kin._

"In three more days, a panel of Dark Forest cats will judge your fighting and survival skills, and give you a rating of one to ten. The next day, there will be the interviews. The day after that..." - curved silver claws slid out - "...the Games will begin." Quiet growls and hisses broke out in the crowd. Hawkfrost lifted his chin, ice-blue eyes flashing. "The arena will be the Clans' territories. The camps will not be accessible to you; a line of sticks will mark the end of the arena. Should you step past, you will be... disposed of." His muzzle curled into a cruel smile, revealing sharp white fangs. "The Clans will temporarily relocate while the Games go on," he finished, dipping his head to Mapleshade.

The old, patchy, translucent orange-and-white she-cat began next. "There will be many... dangers in the Games." Sadistic pleasure entered her voice as she went on, "You'll find some _nasty_ surprises... foxes, badgers, bears... rockfalls, floods, fires... Only one out of twenty-four of you will survive." Tigerheart felt an involuntary shudder go down his back. "You would do well to make alliances with other cats, or you won't survive long. Even cats from other Clans... if you wish," she finished.

"Should you win," Thistleclaw went on, "you will be returned to your Clan as a hero. These Games will be repeated... every year."

"_What?_" Tigerheart heard a yowl of outrage, and twisted to see Squirrelflight of ThunderClan, fur bristling madly, green eyes glittering. A loud hiss erupted, there was a pale brown blur, and suddenly she was flat on her back with blood dripping from her shoulder. Birchfall looked down upon her coldly.

Thistleclaw smiled. "There will be certain new... rules in place around here. Things will change in the Clans. Things will change."

He chuckled darkly, sending shivers up Tigerheart's spine.

* * *

That night, Tigerheart laid in his den, tired and sore from a day of hard and unrelenting training. He shifted uncomfortably; his tail was lying across Pinenose's back, and he was leaning against Tawnypelt's side. Despite trying to chase them away, the voices of the Dark Forest cats whispered in his mind. _Only one out of twenty-four of you will survive... These Games will be repeated every year... Things will change in the Clans... Things will change._

"_Stop_ it," he hissed under his breath. He started up his silent chant in his mind: _Four days. Four days since we were crammed into these burrows and told we were doomed. Four days since they tore us from our Clans, twenty-four of us, and chose twelve to teach us how to die._

_ Eight days since they won._

Still the voices came: _Nasty surprises... foxes... floods... one... one out of twenty-four..._

He couldn't keep this up. He couldn't keep avoiding the one subject that consumed his mind, every night. He could see her eyes, blue and glimmering, her pelt, dove-gray... _One out of twenty-four..._

And suddenly Tigerheart knew who that one would be.

Dovewing.

And he would do everything in his power to keep it that way.


	5. Chapter 5: Various

**A/N: Okay, it's been a while, but I've got a new chappy out! And wow, lots of reviews this time.**

**Silverfire - STALKER! D: Haha, well, awesome. As you can see, we're still catchin' up here, since I didn't get the idea to post the story here until we were on, like, chapter 5 or something.**

**Swiftshimmer - Thanks!**

**DEMOCRATIC CHEESECAKE - Dovewing's a mary-sue? What? Well, I do admit that I don't like her character all that much, but she barely even appeared in chapter 4, so I don't know how you could think she was being a Mary Sue in it. You're acting like the only criteria for a character to be a Mary Sue is for everyone to like them, which it isn't, and besides, the only person (cat?) mentioned to be liking her in Chapter 4 was Tigerheart, which definitely isn't 'everyone'. Sorry if I sound rude. You should just put more thought into your reviews before you post.**

**Rini the Flareon - Oh, thank you! I think you're the only Friend Ball fan who's actually migrated over to a Warriors story. ;)**

**Cinder the Mockingjay - Your wish is granted, mademoiselle.**

* * *

He could survive. He knew he could. His only question was, what would he have to do to achieve it? And what would happen to those he cared for?

He had to get his allegiances sorted out. If there was anything the Great Journey had taught him, it was that teamwork was power. If only he could face this new challenge with that same team. But Squirrelflight... she had changed. _Crowfeather_ - the _true_ father of his kits - he never wanted to see him again. Feathertail was with StarClan, Stormfur with the Tribe. And Tawnypelt...

His eyes snapped open. _Tawnypelt_ was someone he could side with.

* * *

The half-sisters had made a pact, that first day. Their fathers differed, but their fathers had both abandoned them, and they both loved their mother with their lives.

She and Hazeltail had promised solemnly, over Daisy's sleeping form, that they would do all they could to protect their gentle mother in the Games. They had been training her hard. Teaching her to fight. She was probably about as good as a brand-new, six-moon-old apprentice now. But that was a big improvement.

It was up to her and Hazeltail to protect Daisy as long as they could. No cat deserved to die this way. Especially not their mother.

* * *

Honestly, he was nervous. Very, very nervous. He would probably die a horrible death. And his father. And the cat he loved. And his sister had caused it all.

_Blossomfall... why?_ It was a question that haunted him at night.

He tried to stand strong.

As the days passed, he examined himself. What his goals would be. Would he try to protect Graystripe? Dovewing? Himself? Too many choices. The Games, he decided, were designed to torment him.

In the end, Graystripe wanted to come with him, protect him. He invited Dovewing, praying, praying she'd say yes. To his relief, she did, and Brightheart asked to come along. Of course she would - Dovewing was her only relation in the Games.

They were strong. They would win. He just didn't let himself think about what would happen after "they" won.

* * *

She knew she didn't have much of a chance. She was a medicine cat at heart, not a warrior. Squirrelflight, however, assured her that a medicine cat could be the most useful ally of all. They would stay together. It was their only chance.

_And Crowfeather..._ They had broken apart long ago, but something in her still felt affection for him. Even though he'd ruined her life and broken her heart. Some nights she hated him; some she loved him; some she was too tired to think about him at all, and so she didn't.

She wondered how he felt about her. Did any scrap of him...? _No, don't think about him. He will die anyway. He is doomed, and so am I._

* * *

Brambleclaw, with her. She would be working with her brother. Of course, that had upset the others. "If you're siding with that _ThunderClan_ cat, we're out of here!" Crowfrost had spat, Pinenose and Olivenose standing defiantly beside him.

"Fine," she'd replied tartly. Tigerheart had stood beside her, every muscle tense.

Then Squirrelflight had begged for her and Leafpool to come along. How could she deny the she-cat she'd traveled with on the Great Journey?

"No."

That had been Brambleclaw's reply, flat and final. "Please," she had said, a word she didn't use often. "There's strength in numbers. We'll go so much farther. And a medicine cat will give us a clear advantage. Please, you don't even have to speak to her."

She knew by the look in his eyes that he'd go along with it. She just hoped her little group didn't end up killing each other.

* * *

Murmurs echoed across the Island. _"Grandfather of my kits..." "Can't stay with you..." "Why does she have to..." "RiverClan must stay together..." "She's doomed..."_

_ Brambleclaw, Tawypelt, Tigerheart, Squirrelflight, Leafpool..._

_ Daisy, Hazeltail, Rosepetal..._

_ Graystripe, Dovewing, Bumblestripe, Brightheart..._

_ Crowfrost, Pinenose, Olivenose..._

_ Crowfeather, Ashfoot, Harespring, Heathertail, Whitetail..._

_ Petalfur, Grasspelt, Rushtail, Pebblefoot..._

_ May StarClan light your path._

__

* * *

**A/N: So, this chapter was purposely a little confusing, but the end part tells you all the groups of tributes who paired up. Can you guess who's POV each part is from? ;)**

__


	6. Chapter 6: Heathertail

**A/N: Aaaand I'm back! That was a longer break than I intended, but I like this next chapter a lot, and I hope you guys will too. ;3**

**SailormoonxDbzxCats - Thanks!**

**Rini the Flareon - Oh thanks. By the way, did you know that I'm working on a sequel to Friend Ball? It's called Chasing Dreams and I've just posted chapter 3.**

**Hawkwing-Mistkit - Ooh, that's a good idea. I hadn't thought of that. *thinks about how to work it in***

**CHEESECAKE - Okay, I'm not sure I understand your logic. 'Everyone' is not talking about her. We've really only heard Tigerheart and Bumblestripe talking about/loving her, and it was already an established fact in the books that they both liked her. What do you want me to do? Pretend that never happened? I agree that the Hunger Games is overused, but that doesn't mean people will stop using an idea just because it's overused. I didn't 'rip it off', it's called a crossover. Also, I have no idea what you mean by 'knows everything good and bad'. She can see and hear far away, but that's far from being omniscient. Only Rock knows everything (which, actually, I think is a dumb idea, but whatever). And yes, I have read the Hunger Games. Have you read Warriors?  
**

**...Sorry about that acidic review. Cheesecake, whoever he or she is, is starting to tick me off. I mean, I'm fine if people dislike my story or some part of it, and I'm also fine if they tell me so, but I'd at least expect them to tell me politely and make it more of a concrit review than a flame. So.**

* * *

The Games started the day after tomorrow. She couldn't stop thinking about it. That, and the fact that she had to win at all costs.

She wouldn't be fighting only for herself.

She had trained hard, as hard as she could, and was glad when WindClan's tributes had all decided to travel together. Whitetail, Ashfoot, Crowfeather, Harespring - they would all be useful allies. She hoped she wouldn't have to kill any of them. If it came to that point... well... she wasn't sure what she was prepared to do.

* * *

As dusk fell, another meeting of all four Clans was called (for they certainly weren't Gatherings, not anymore). It was time for the interviews. With the other tributes, Heathertail was ushered to the Great Oak, where she huddled in a bedraggled cluster with her Clanmates. Sunstrike, Furzepelt, and Breezepelt guarded them.

_Breezepelt!_ His name, the sight of his midnight-black pelt, sent a tornado of hate and anger through her that was so powerful, she nearly jumped on him, then and there, and ripped the fur from his skinny black shoulders.

_I thought you loved me!_ she almost wailed. How could he have betrayed her? Her and their Clan? He was a traitor, that's what he was. She would _never_, in twelve blue moons, forgive him.

She thought of another cat who had broken her heart. Lionblaze. Compared to Breezepelt's betrayal, his looked almost like a joke. Especially when she -

Heathertail was broken out of her reverie when a loud caterwaul silenced the crowd. Tigerstar stood magnificently on a branch far above her. "Cats of all Clans," he purred, making anger prickle under her pelt, "Today we are gathered for the interviews of our twenty-four tributes. Each will have five minutes to speak, no more, no less. You will also need to know some crucial information about the Games." He nodded to Mapleshade, who was on a branch below him.

"You will be allowed to assist your Clanmates in the Games," Mapleshade announced, and ripples of shock swept through the crowd. "You can send prey, water, herbs, weapons, and messages to any cat in the Games via messenger pigeons and mockingbirds. Each item will cost a certain amount of fresh-kill, which our Dark Forest warriors will be happy to collect."

"In addition," Tigerstar rumbled, "You will be able to _watch_ the Games proceed via a watching-pool." Confused cries emanated from the Clan cats, and Tigerstar cut them off with a sweep of his dark tabby-striped tail. "It is similar to the method we spirits use. Using a spirit link, a simple pool can show events in the living world. Some of the Dark Forest's most established minds have discovered how to create a similar link in the living world, which will allow you to observe the tributes' struggles."

_What in StarClan?_ Heathertail wondered. Her brain was buzzing, as though bees were zipping around inside of it.

A scarred, ancient-looking black tom Heathertail had never seen before stepped forward from a lower branch. "I'm Nightshadow," he began in an old, creaky voice. "It's quite simple, really. In the Dark Forest, we'll have cats at watching-pools at all times. Each evening, I'll decide what to include, and instruct them in projecting their memories to a main Pool, which will be spirit-linked to the living world's pools, causing the memories to show there. This will create a several-hour-long episode, which will - "

"That's enough, Nightshadow," Tigerstar commanded, silencing the aged black cat. Heathertail still had no idea what he had been talking about. "Now, we will begin the interviews. ThunderClan's tributes, followed by ShadowClan's, WindClan's, and RiverClan's. Creamtail?"

"Yes, Tigerstar," came a silky, honey-coated voice. A cream she-cat materalized slowly on the branch just below him. She had long, fluffy, elegantly groomed fur the color of a rising dawn, with round, shining sky-blue eyes. Heathertail almost took her for a StarClan cat, until she realized no stars shimmered in the newcomer's fur. However beautiful this she-cat was, she had done horrible things in her lifetime.

"We'll begin with Brambleclaw from ThunderClan," she half-purred. "Climb up here, please." She indicated the end of a long branch jutting out a couple of tail-lengths below her. The dark tabby warrior, surprised, took several minutes to claw his way to the branch, supple muscles rippling beneath his pelt. _He looks so much like Tigerstar,_ thought Heathertail in disgust.

"Now, Brambleclaw, do you think you can win?" Creamtail asked, smiling encouragingly.

"Yes," Brambleclaw replied firmly. "I'm one of the strongest and most experienced cats in the Games, thanks to the Great Journey."

"About that," Creamtail began. "Every one of the cats you journeyed with - who still make their home in the Clans - have been called to the Games. How do you feel about that?"

"It's regretful," he admitted, but then his amber eyes hardened as they flicked over to where Squirrelflight was sitting with the rest of the ThunderClan tributes. "But I've broken off ties with most of them."

Heathertail shuddered, remembering the whole Leafpool/Crowfeather fiasco. She had been shocked that Crowfeather would do such a thing, like everyone else, but that was about the extent of her emotions; though she had harbored a mistrust for the black tom ever since, it didn't really apply to her, and had happened before she was born. Of course, she'd been very, very surprised to learn of Lionblaze's origins; the two cats she had loved were half-brothers! But Breezepelt... Breezepelt had been _devastated_. He'd already resented his father, but now it seemed he [i]_raged[/i]_ against him, and he was filled with a burning hate for his ThunderClan relatives. Heathertail had tried to comfort him, of course, but he hadn't listened. Now she considered it his first step into darkness...

Heathertail was snapped out of her reverie as Creamtail finished her sentence. "...Tawnypelt?"

"It's true I've sided with her," Brambleclaw meowed. "She will make our team stronger, be she from ThunderClan or not. That's all I'll say."

"Thank you, Brambleclaw," mewed Creamtail, with a dip of her elegantly tapered head. "That will be all. Graystripe?"

The shaggy gray tom presented himself as a strong, team-oriented warrior, with a clear shot at winning. As ThunderClan cat after ThunderClan cat came up, Heathertail's mind began to wander.

Daisy was next - what a joke! Her voice was trembling, but she basically said that she was improving and had her daughters to protect her. _I wonder how long that will last._ Then there was Brightheart, who seemed to be popular among the Clans. Heathertail thought they should have kept her name as Lostface; another pathetic competitor.

Dovewing seemed to highlight her sharp vision and hearing, along with speed. _Big deal,_ Heathertail thought. _She's a great hunter, but useless in battle._ Hazeltail and Rosepetal's speeches were so similar, they could have been dealt with in one. They were going to protect Daisy, they were united, blah, blah, blah. Bumblestripe caught Heathertail's attention a bit, though.

"The cat I love is in this Games," he proclaimed. "And I'll protect her to my last breath."

"And who might that cat be?" purred Creamtail silkily.

Bumblestripe hesitated a moment, before his answer rang clearly in the breezy leaf-fall air. "Dovewing," he announced. He went on, a bit shakily, "I-It doesn't matter if she loves me back or not. I'm with her."

_So she has a lovestruck bodyguard,_ Heathertail mused. _She may last longer than I thought._

Squirrelflight was feisty as always, Leafpool touting her usefulness as a medicine cat. ShadowClan went by in a blur, Tawynpelt and Tigerheart and Crowfrost and the rest proclaiming their strengths and uses and allegiances, and then it was WindClan's turn.

"Heathertail." Her breath caught in her throat slightly. _Finally, it's time._ Shoving down her nervousness, she sprang nimbly to the foot of the Great Oak, jumping lightly and, she hoped, elegantly, from branch to branch until she reached the one designated to interviewees.

Creamtail smiled warmly, sending a muddle of emotions through Heathertail that ranged from making her want to smile back and ralaxing, to wanting to claw off the conniving actor's muzzle. The Island was darkening, the moon rising as the last flashes of sunset disappeared over the horizon. The pale brown tabby swayed slightly, digging her claws as far as she could into the bark as the faraway ground blurred below. _WindClan cats aren't meant to climb trees..._ Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird as she waited for Creamtail to speak.

"So, Heathertail," she began, "I've heard you were... close to Breezepelt. How did it feel when you found out he was with the Dark Forest?"

_**How DARE she ask that question!**_ The thought exploded in Heathertail's mind as her tail bushed out like a pinecone, claws curving into the branch so deeply she thought that they'd never come out.

"That bad, huh?" the cream she-cat mewed, sounding sympathetic. "Will it affect your performance in the Games?"

Choking down her rage, Heathertail managed to speak: "Yes. It will." She lifted her chin, forcing her sore claws to disentangle themselves from the wood. _Can't let them know. Show them that you're strong._

"So why do you think _you're_ a candidate for victor?" Creamtail mewed.

"I'm fast." _Mouse-brain__ - all WindClan cats are! Step it up!_ "I have my own motivations. I'm fueled by anger. With all of WindClan on my side, I _can't_ lose." She drew up her head triumphantly, blue eyes glittering.

_I will win these Games._

_ It is our only choice._


	7. Chapter 7: Crowfeather

**A/N: Okay, I'm finally updating this thing! And wow, looks like it's gotten a lot more powerful. o.o Review replies!**

**Song That Sings On Its Own - Thanks!**

**FinnickLove - After a considerable break, I have. ;D**

**Cheesecake - Okay. I'm sorry, I was a bit mean in my last chapter. :/ And this is very, very overused, I won't deny that. :)**

**SquirrelxBrambleWarriors - Heheh, I guess it kinda is! So are you Team Bumble or Team Tiger? ;)**

**Striker in the Night - Here ya go. *grins***

**Rippleshine - Thank you very much! It still surprises me when so many people like my stories so much! o.o**

* * *

Crowfeather hoped he'd made an impression last night. He hoped he'd roused his Clanmates. But now, he had to make an impression on the Dark Forest itself. It wouldn't be as easy, but he was up for the challenge.

It pained him, though, to see Leafpool in these Games. Whenever he glimpsed her slim tabby form and amber eyes, memories flashed through his mind that he wished he could forget.

After the Great Journey... he'd been so tangled up inside. He missed Feathertail with a relentless ache in his heart. He'd loved her, he really had, or at least he'd believed so. But had he really? Was it just an apprentice crush - a very strong one, but nonetheless - or true love?

That's when he'd met Leafpool. She was so pretty, and sweet, and kind... Before he knew it, his aching heart had gone head-over-paws for her, using her to heal his grief. And he'd loved her, too... almost ran away with her... until she ran back to her Clan, leaving him alone and mistrusted. He understood her actions, knew it was reasonable, but still, it hurt. The Clan hated him. Turned against him. Which was when he took Nightcloud as a mate, praying it would help the deteriorating situation.

From then on, things got more and more complex. Breezepelt came along, the kit he'd neither wanted nor loved, the kit who'd betrayed him. And then there were Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather, roaring onto the scene...

Thank StarClan none of them were in the Games.

* * *

"Tomorrow, at sunhigh, the first annual Warrior Games will begin." Tigerstar's deep voice boomed across the Island as it did every morning, telling more details about the dreaded Games. "You will begin on the RiverClan/ShadowClan shore, close to the tree-bridge. Twenty-four circles will be drawn in the sand with sticks, one for each cat to stand in. I will count down from 10. When I reach 0, the Games will begin." His muzzle curled into a cruel smile, which Crowfeather faced with a stony glare.

"Should you step out of your circle before I reach 0," Tigerstar began, "you shall be killed by a Dark Forest warrior immediately." He paused to draw in breath. "Close to the tree-bridge will be a pile of supplies, such as fresh-kill, a variety of herbs, and weapons. Weapons include, for instance, the dog teeth BloodClan were fond of using, and poisoned snake fangs. The bloodbath will begin." He chuckled sadistically. "It's your choice what strategy you will choose."

The fur along Crowfeather's spine bristled; he longed to leap forward and rip Tigerstar open chest to tail-base, as legends said he had been killed...

"We will begin the judging immediately," Mapleshade rasped, "In the Dark Forest. The order will be the same as the interviews." Murmurs of shock rippled through the tributes, and a small pang of foreboding twinged Crowfeather's stomach.

With that, the old, scruffy ginger-and-white she-cat stalked towards the ThunderClan tributes. She thrust her nose to a surprised Brambleclaw's, who looked startled at first, but then sank to the ground within moments, his amber eyes fluttering shut. Mapleshade's form shimmered, growing transparent and fading quickly out of sight.

The tributes murmured nervously amongst themselves, discussing the Games, Tigerstar's words, the judging. But Crowfeather remained silent. Completely silent.

Memories of the Great Journey flickered in his mind. Stormfur, now living in the Tribe with Brook. Feathertail, once - still? - was she? - his love, residing in StarClan. And the others, trapped in the Games with him, facing imminent death. Tawnypelt, as strong and determined as ever, now teamed up with her son. Squirrelflight, whose moons of sorrow had given way to her old fiery exterior. Brambleclaw, whom now shunned Crowfeather, the true father of the kits he had thought were his.

Crowfeather had thought they were Brambleclaw's as well, like everyone else. That night had changed everything...

...

They were all together. Tawnypelt, Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, Leafpool, and Tigerheart, all teamed up in one of, if not the, most powerful alliances in the Games.

Crowfeather had considered joining them. But he knew he wasn't wanted. The only cat he'd truly been close to on the Great Journey was Feathertail. The others had thought he was a nuisance, or at best, an irritable but necessary travelling partner. Besides, he was a loyal WindClan cat now. His Clanmates expected no less. Which was why he and all the other WindClan tributes - Whitetail, Heathertail, Ashfoot, Harespring - had decided to stay together.

It was the safest way.

* * *

"Crowfeather!"

The smoky black tom, whom had been staring off into space, absorbed in thought, started at the mention of his name. Barely a whiskerlength from his face was Mapleshade, her amber eyes glaring into his. He stared, perplexed, as she reached forward and touched her nose to his.

It was cold, extremely cold. He was about to pull away when fog began to creep in at the edges of his mind, drowsiness enveloping him. His limbs swayed, and before he knew what was happening he had collapsed on the ground

_cold where am i fog where is this_

He started awake in what he assumed was the Dark Forest, his blue eyes wide. It was dim, with dull-barked trees looming up like spectres in half-light. Mist wreathed ominously around their dark trunks, and sickly-looking fungus grew on their roots, letting off pale weak light. Small, odd-smelling streams in shades of brown and green trickled sluggishly along. He glanced around, resisting the urge to jump when a testy "a-[i]hem[/i]" came from Mapleshade directly beside him. They padded into a wide clearing, where numerous... _things_ were set up. There were sticks, logs, mossy stones, mice, and... a scowling Dark Forest warrior, his claws unsheathed as he regarded Crowfeather coolly.

A panel of Dark Forest judges sat in a small semi-circle, awaiting his arrival. There were Tigerstar, Thistleclaw, Hawkheart (a notorious medicine cat of Crowfeather's own Clan), Darkstripe, Brokenstar, Hawkfrost, and, completing the panel, Mapleshade. _Seven experienced, trained, bloodthirsty warriors waiting to see what I've got._

The tension was broken as Tigerstar meowed chillingly, "Snowtuft, attack Crowfeather."

He bristled, claws instantly sliding out as the fur along his spine lifted. Snowtuft stepped forward, smiling mockingly. Tigerstar rolled his eyes. "Claws sheathed; you're trying to pin the other cat. They're starting the Games tomorrow, or have you forgotten?" A smug tone entered his voice in the last sentence, one that again made Crowfeather fantasize about tearing him slowly to pieces and tossing each piece to the foxes Tigerstar had captured.

But now, it was time for battle. To show the Dark Forest what skills he possessed, to leave an imprint in the minds of the Clans that would make them decide whether or not to spend their precious fresh-kill on him. His blue eyes narrowed, incredibly focused, as Snowtuft stalked forward.

Crowfeather tensed, coiling his muscles, and sprang first, hoping going on the offensive would help their impression of him. All thoughts were focused to the battle, and nothing else.

His front paws slammed into Snowtuft's chest, knocking the ghostly white warrior back several paces. However, Snowtuft managed to keep his balance under the force rather than go cascading into the ground, as Crowfeather had hoped. The white tom spat, lunging for Crowfeather, but the wiry WindClan cat dodged, swirling away, and swiped his paws out from under him before he even knew where his opponent was. Snowtuft tumbled to the ground in a tangle of legs and paws.

Crowfeather pounced, attempting to roll his enemy onto his back, but Snowtuft kicked out hard with his back legs, knocking the breath from Crowfeather and sending him staggering back several steps. Snowtuft, hissing, jumped swiftly back to his paws and struck like a snake, nearly unbalancing the black tom. Instead, Crowfeather ducked, receiving another blow to the shoulder, and reacting with trademark WindClan speed, whipped around and grabbed one of Snowtuft's back paws in his jaws. Snowtuft yowled in surprise, falling hard to the Dark Forest's soggy side. In a flash, Crowfeather was on his back and holding the unlucky white tom down firmly by his scarred skinny shoulders.

"PIN!" Mapleshade yowled in a rickety, low, rasping voice, stalking forwards as Crowfeather slithered away from the ghostly tom's beaten form. Snowtuft got staggeringly to his paws, shaking out his dusty white coat with a hiss and a vicious glare at Crowfeather.

The Dark Forest judges exchanged glances, seeming to make mental notes in their heads.

"So?" inquired Crowfeather, his voice low and calculating.

"You'll receive your score at sundown," Hawkheart growled curtly, and flicked his tail to Mapleshade. She glared fiercely at him - perhaps because she was being ordered around by such a younger warrior - and stalked forward, thrusting her nose once more to Crowfeather's.

Again, he experienced an odd sensation; dizziness enveloped him and he felt as if he were falling into blackness as the ground rushed up to his paws.

_chill ice swirl gone where -_

Back. Ashfoot and Whitetail blinking at me, startled at the sudden intensity of my awakening. Sundown had better come soon.

* * *

"We will now reveal the scores made by the tributes," Tigerstar yowled loudly. He flicked his tail, and Darkstripe stepped forward, yellow eyes darting from side to side before he cleared his throat and began to list,

"ThunderClan first." _StarClan, what's so great about them that they always go first?_ "Brambleclaw received a 17." _A 17? He seems to be on top of his game._ "Graystripe received an 18. Brightheart got a 16..." Crowfeather's mind wandered as the numbers droned on until, suddenly, they called his name.

"Crowfeather of WindClan - a 17." _Take that, Brambleclaw._

The only notable scores were the really low ones. Daisy got a 7. Leafpool was a 10. Dovewing was only a 13. WindClan did pretty well - he was especially surprised at Heathertail. She was scored at a 16, close to the really seasoned fighters - himself, Brightheart, Brambleclaw, and the other more experienced warriors being forced into the Games. He could only guess she'd been fueled by hate. She'd seemed to be nearly choked by it in her interview the other night (a good sign, or a bad one?). Of course, Breezepelt had betrayed them both to the Games. Of course she'd hate him now.

Tigerstar wrapped up his speech by saying coolly, "The First Annual Warriors Games begin tomorrow at exactly sunhigh. There will be no more training, no more preparing, no more forming allegiances. Tomorrow, you will begin the hardest fight of your lives, a fight _for_ your lives. Goodnight, sweet tributes. For some of you, it may be your last."

And chuckling darkly, he slowly faded from sight, leaving the tributes with a deep sense of foreboding, dread, hatred, and loss.

He could only pray to his forgotten gods that they would preserve him.

* * *

**A/N: Aaaaand we're almost to the Games! :D If this were the actual Hunger Games book this would probably be the end of part 1. :)**


	8. Chapter 8: Squirrelflight

**A/N: We're back! With a surprisingly timely update if I do say so myself. With timely updates come fewer reviews, I'm afraid. Anyway, this is it! THE GAMES!**

**Cinder the Mockingjay - Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it so much.**

**Rippleshine - I do agree that Warriors and The Hunger Games mix surprisingly well. Actually The Hunger Games mixes well with pretty much anything. ;)**

* * *

Squirrelflight took deep breaths, lying in the den. She was supposed to be a brave she-cat, but she was afraid. Deathly afraid.

In fact, that could be just what she got. Death.

_No,_ she thought to herself, _have faith. I'll make it. I have to. I have to protect Leafpool._She closed her eyes, reviewing the plan she'd made with her teammates while they trained for the Games.

Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt would race for the supplies at the foot of the tree-bridge together, snatching up a bundle and getting in and out as quickly as they could. Meanwhile, Squirrelflight, Leafpool, and Tigerheart would run away from the battle as fast as possible, with Squirrelflight swiftly finding Leafpool to fight by her side in case their escape plan didn't go as smoothly as they'd planned. The five cats would rendezvous at a twisted sycamore in ShadowClan's territory, which Tawnypelt and Tigerheart had described to them as well as possible.

_It will work,_ Squirrelflight repeated to herself over and over again, _it will work._

It took her a long, long time to fall asleep that night.

* * *

Harsh, cutting sunlight awoke her the next morning. She blinked and squinted up into the quite unconcerned-looking face of her former Clanmate, Birchfall. She hissed, wondering how he could look so passively at a Clan member he was about to send into certain - _nearly certain,_she corrected herself - death. He glared sharply at her, waiting as Leafpool and Brightheart stirred in the den. Finally, all three of them slunk out, stretching in the open space. Squirrelflight gazed at the sun in mild surprise - it was far over the horizon, when normally the tributes were awoken at the crack of dawn.

_Of course, the Games are today,_she thought.

By this point, she had sort of resigned herself to this fate, however. In the more than quarter-moon since the 'Reaping', she had ranged between fury to fear to panic, and now, resignation. Last night's endless worrying had faded, leaving her with an odd sense of calm.

Still, something in the back of her mind quivered, before being shoved down best she could.

A Dark Forest warrior from another Clan started passing out mice to everyone, and Squirrelflight took a deep breath. As he tossed a mouse at her and Leafpool's paws, she nodded to her sister and raised her gaze above the crowd, searching for her teammates. It was so odd thinking of them that way - teammates, not Clanmates. Before the Games, those two words were synonymous. Now, she was working with a pair of ShadowClan cats.

The sisters quickly found Tawnypelt, Brambleclaw, and Tigerheart and settled down by them to wolf down their breakfast, the last before the Games. As Squirrelflight ate, she felt Brambleclaw's level gaze boring into her fur. She glanced quickly up; his amber eyes were cold, fixed firmly on her. She ducked her head down, frustration boiling inside of her. _I did what I had to! It's not like _your_ life was ruined, like Leafpool's was!_

"So." Brambleclaw finally spoke, calmly and coolly. He seemed very collected for someone who was about to wrestle with Death. "Remember our plan. Tawnypelt and I will dash for supplies. Squirrelflight - " he said her name without any emotion, droning, almost - "will meet up with Leafpool and Tigerheart and race into ShadowClan territory. Easy."

The surrounding cats nodded, and once more Squirrelflight felt a twang of nervous anticipation.

It was finally going to start. The Games. She had waited, panicked, worried, and trained for them. In a few short hours, they would begin.

In a few short days, she could be dead.

* * *

The minutes seemed to crawl by. The different teams gathered together and murmured nervously to one another, reviewing plans and strategies, or simply discussing the events to come. Ever so often, one of the clusters of cats would fall deathly silent. And the sun rose, so steady, so reliable, in the pale blue sky, until it hung at exactly its highest point, like a great iron bell tolling at a funeral.

Hawkfrost let out a loud yowl, and silence fell instantly over all of the tributes, a thick and awkward silence as they waited for the Dark Forest cats to speak.

Tigerstar stood regally, slowly, and drew himself up. His amber eyes flashed with pleasure and anticipation as they roved over twenty-four anxious faces. Then he spoke, simply, just three words: "It is time."

Squirrelflight stood, eyes narrowed, and Leafpool got up beside her, her white paws trembling slightly. Tigerheart, Tawnypelt, and Brambleclaw got to their paws behind them.

Birchfall and Blossomfall, accompanied by Thistleclaw and Mapleshade, started rounding up the ThunderClan tributes. Squirrelflight followed as they herded them up the shore into the Island. _You can be strong. You can be brave. For Leafpool. For Tawnypelt. For... for Brambleclaw._

She crossed the tree-bridge easily, as she'd done for moons on end happily en route to the Gatherings. This was the first time she'd left the Island in nearly a half-moon. Sure enough, as she hopped down onto the beach, she could see circles drawn clearly into the sand.

Thistleclaw, a wicked leer plastered on his mottled gray face, directed her to one about halfway around the circle with his tail. Drawing in a deep breath, she stepped dignifiedly into it, lifting her chin. She saw the other Dark Forest cats arranging tributes all around the slightly ovular circle that all of the smaller circles formed. As the last few cats were assigned to their places, her bright green eyes quickly found her teammates.

Leafpool was on one of the positions closest to the RiverClan/ShadowClan border, about five places away from Squirrelflight. _Good,_ she thought, _I can reach her quickly._Brambleclaw was a couple cats over from Leafpool. Tawnypelt was almost opposite her, with Tigerheart several places to the left of his mother. Looking around, Squirrelflight spotted the 'supplies' the Dark Forest cats had spoken of. Piled near the base of the tree-bridge was a large array of items, but you couldn't tell what any of them were; each was neatly wrapped in a leaf bundle, concealing its contents, but some bundles were considerably larger than others.

Squirrelflight's breath caught in her throat as she realized all of the Dark Forest cats had retreated over the tree-bridge, and it was only the tributes, stock-still and solidly silent, their breaths audible in the suspense-soaked air. Several long seconds passed, when in a voice that chilled her to the core, Tigerstar began to count down.

The countdown that would begin the Games.

_"Ten..."_

Instantly, every cat was alert, chins lifted, ears pricked, claws already unsheathed...

_"Nine..."_

His voice rang powerfully across the beach, its booming tones the only sound that could be heard as every tribute fell absolutely silent, waiting in tense anticipation...

_"Eight..."_

Eyes were trained on the pile of supplies. Teammates nervously locked gazes...

_"Seven..."_

Squirrelflight's searching eyes met Leafpool's. The brown tabby gave her sister a fearful look, and Squirrelflight offered a half-hearted smile.

_"Six..."_

Squirrelflight redirected her attention to ShadowClan's territory, the dark murky pines she would run to. Every muscle, every nerve, every thought, was trained and focused solely on this one thing, finding Leafpool, and running. The tension was tangible in the chilly air.

_"Five..."_

This is what they had waited for for weeks. What they had trained for. What they would die for...

_"Four..."_

Twenty-four cats were more silent than prey, tenser than hunted mice...

_"Three..."_

Twenty-four cats flexed their claws, preparing for the challenge of a lifetime...

_"Two..."_

Twenty-four cats exchanged glances with friends and family, glances that may have been their last glimpses of one another...

_"One..."_

Twenty-four cats took deep breaths, raised their chins, unsheathed their claws, prepared, ready, bloodthirsty, waiting for the final signal, the final call that would break the tension and the silence and the waiting and finally, once and for all, irrevocably, begin the Games.

**_"Zero."_**

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN DUNNNN**


	9. Chapter 9: Squirrelflight & Brambleclaw

******A/N: Okay, another chapter! :D And oh my word, that is a LOT of reviews. TEN. In one chapter! Wow, that is definitely a new record for me! This is now my second most popular story - second only to Friend Ball, which has 57 reviews. I'm thinking it won't be too long til we beat that, which would make me very happy. :) Anyway, reviews:**

******Cinder the Mockingjay - Well, I'm gonna have to kill off at least one of them sometime or another! But we'll see... I have some pretty evil plans for a few characters. xD**

******Flyere - Thanks!**

******Sunleaf13 - Oh, thank you! I won't say who dies and who won't... yet, but Dovewing will at least last longer than the others, what with being able to hear their opponents coming from super far away.**

******Hannahmae99 - YES, my evil cliffhanger worked. Read away.**

******Rippleshine - "How are you going to kill off the characters we know and love?" xD Many ways, my friend, many ways.**

******NightLock - Thank you very much. :3**

******PAW - Thanks! I'm trying to make this a very suspense-filled fic. :)**

******SpiritWolf14 - I didn't really think about it, but several reviewers have pointed out that TigerxDovexBumble is kind of like GalexKatnissxPeeta. Although in the Hunger Games, Gale wasn't actually in the Games. Though... what if he was? *wonders if there are any fanfics like that out there, 'cuz that would be AWESOME***

******Badgerfang - Yes. I might have to kill off less characters than usual in the bloodbath, though, we're all so attached to them. ;-;**

******MossRose - This chapter isn't Bumble, but I'm planning a future chap from Bumblestripe's POV. :3  
LET THE GAMES BEGIN! :D  
**

* * *

The moment the dreaded yowl rang in her ears, it was as though everything had faded away, leaving only her, her and her goals, crystal clear. Squirrelflight shot like an adder from her circle, dust kicking up behind her as she dashed toward the spot where Leafpool was - or had been. Suddenly cats were boiling around her, screeching, clawing, running, scratching.

A tortoiseshell she-cat darted in front of her, her teeth bared in a vicious hiss, stinking of ShadowClan. _Olivenose,_her mind supplied in a blink, as the she-cat raked her claws across her face. Hissing, Squirrelflight jumped forward, sinking her teeth into her enemy's shoulder. Olivenose whirled, thorn-sharp claws scrabbling at her side. Reacting instinctively, Squirrelflight growled, slashing her claws across Olivenose's throat. The tortoiseshell gasped in shock, stumbling back with a gaping gash across her chest.

Squirrelflight didn't even stop. Didn't stop to think that she may have just killed a cat. She raced forward, only for a pale brown tabby to throw herself onto her back. Snarling, Squirrelflight tossed her off and sped desperately through the fighting crowd, ducking unsheathed claws and darting around pairs of attackers rolling across the ground. _I don't have time for this!_ she thought frantically. _I must find Leafpool!_

She caught a flash of brown-and-white and dashed past a snarling tabby, her heart pounding into her throat. _Leafpool?_Relief flooded her as she spotted her sister, facing off with a hiss against a black she-cat. "Leafpool, come on!" Squirrelflight cried. Narrowing her eyes, she leaped and crashed into the black she-cat - Pinenose, she realized - shredding her ears with a vicious swipe. Nodding to her sister, whose amber gaze was relieved and grateful, she whipped around and sped up towards the shadowy trees at the ShadowClan border.

Leafpool followed, panting. The former medicine cat's sides were scraped and splattered with blood, but nothing looked too serious; Squirrelflight had probably suffered worse. She ducked around fighting pairs, dashing frantically around feline forms, receiving minor cuts and scrapes as she sped past tributes. Adrenaline fueled her, blood roaring in her ears. A new pair of paws fell in behind them, and she bristled, expecting an attacker, but relaxed when she saw it was only Tigerheart, his flanks heaving and shoulders and ears seeping with crimson liquid.

_Yes!_Squirrelflight thought, her heart lifting, as she saw the crowd thin up, dark pines looming up ahead of her. A brown-and-white tom, Harespring, darted into their path, and the group barely even paused as Tigerheart grabbed the young warrior by the scruff and tossed him into the fray.

The trio didn't stop running as they entered the cool shade of ShadowClan territory, pine needles fracturing and poking at their paw pads. They might have been pursued. She couldn't, just couldn't, stop.

Her paws began to ache, feeling like heavy stones, heaving for air like she might collapse any second. _Run. Just keep running. Keep running, and you'll be okay,_her mind repeated over and over, like a mantra that couldn't be stopped.

"Squirrelflight!" came a hoarse cry. She whirled, skidding on the dry pine needles, finally staggering to a stop. Tigerheart and Leafpool had stopped behind her, crouching beside an old, rough-barked tree. Not any tree, she realized - it was the twisted sycamore Tawnypelt had said they should meet by. Squirrelflight faltered over to them, sides shaking and flanks heaving. She took deep, gulping breaths as she staggered over and leaned against Leafpool's warm, comforting tabby pelt. She hadn't even noticed that they'd stopped.

"We're safe now," Leafpool whispered, and Squirrelflight thought how it should be the other way around, her comforting Leafpool. She barely caught the medicine cat's next words as she muttered under her breath, "At least, I hope."

* * *

_**"ZERO."**_As the words were spoken by his father - his hated, hated father - Brambleclaw dashed from his starting point, determined to make it in and out as quickly as possible. He ran powerfully, muscles rippling beneath his dark, tabby-striped pelt, shouldering tributes away like stray mice. Cuts and scratches nicked his pelt, but he darted on, hardly feeling them. The weeks of training had made him strong, hardening already-powerful muscles and strengthening already-iron resolve. One cat, a small tabby she-cat, attached herself to his side, but he shook her away with a bat and a hiss.

There was a flash of tortoiseshell at the edge of his vision. _Tawnypelt!_ He swerved around a pair of tussling tabbies to the dark tortoiseshell's side. She flashed him a relieved, slightly annoyed look from dark green eyes. Together, they zigzagged like rabbits around fighting cats, barely dodging whirling claws. A loud _CRACK_ made him jump, and he shook his head; _A death already?_

_There!_With a burst of relief, Brambleclaw spotted the tree-bridge. Dozens of small green parcels were situated at its base, but they were disappearing quickly; cats swooped in like hawks, snatching several bundles and racing away as if they had wings on their paws. Brambleclaw nodded shortly to Tawnypelt and launched himself at a particularly large bundle near the bottom of the pile.

Unluckily, a pale brown tabby raced into his way and snatched up the package before he could. Snarling, he launched himself onto the RiverClan she-cat - she stank of fish - and battered her shoulders with unsheathed claws and sinking his teeth into the scruff of his neck.

"Get off of her!" came an angry cry, and a mottled gray tom zoomed into his side and knocked him away from his comrade. Where's Tawnypelt when you need her? Brambleclaw thought, cursing a couple of times under his breath; but his sister was engaged in combat herself several tail-lengths away, fending off a young tabby and tortoiseshell simultaneously.

Brambleclaw swiped the gray tom in the face, but the tabby darted around his side and clawed at his underbelly. He swatted her away and lunged, grabbing the gray tom by the ear. There was a sickening ripping sound as its tip came off in his mouth; he spat it onto the blood-splattered ground.

The gray tom barrelled into his side, knocking Brambleclaw to the ground, where he clawed viciously at his flanks. The tabby darted in and nipped his cheek. Roaring, Brambleclaw heaved the tom away and caught the tabby's scruff in his jaws as she sped past him. He felt her throat tear in his jaws as he tossed her to the ground.

"Rushtail!" the gray tom wailed in shock; casting Brambleclaw a furious, frantic glance, he grabbed Rushtail's scruff and started to heave his injured Clanmate away from the battle.

_Did I just_ kill _a cat?_Brambleclaw wondered, feeling slightly queasy. But no. There was no time for that. The parcel they'd been fighting over originally was gone, but others still remained; he scooped up three small bundles in his jaws and glanced frantically in the general direction he'd last seen Tawnypelt. To his relief, she fended off her attackers with a last angry spit, then whirled and picked up a pair of packages herself.

The two turned and ran, side-by-side, flanks heaving and bleeding freely as crimson spattered the ground in their wake. Another _CRACK_rang out behind them as they sped away, paws a blur on the sandy earth.

Now, to meet up with the others.

* * *

**DEATHS**  
Olivenose of ShadowClan  
Rushtail of RiverClan

**STATUS REPORTS**  
(I will have these at the end of every chapter so you will know how your favorites are doing, even if they weren't featured!)

**Group 1 (Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, Squirrelflight, Leafpool, & Tigerheart):**  
Well, I think you know what happened to them, seeing as the whole chapter was about them.  
**Group 2 (Daisy, Hazeltail, & Rosepetal):**  
They made it safely out of the battle into the eastern part of ShadowClan territory. They did not stop to get any supplies. They all sustained minor injuries with Hazeltail having the worst and Daisy the least because she was being protected.  
**Group 3 (Graystripe, Dovewing, Bumblestripe, & Brightheart):**  
The group made it to the western side of ShadowClan and are heading deeper into it. Graystripe was sent to get supplies and managed to get some. Again, they all sustained minor injuries, but Dovewing (since her senses were overwhelmed) got fairly bad injuries. Graystripe has the second worst since he went to get supplies, but not life-threatening.  
**Group 4 (Crowfrost, Pinenose, & Olivenose):**  
Olivenose died after being attacked by Squirrelflight, leaving Pinenose and Crowfrost on their own. The two went to get supplies and managed to get a few, before escaping to ShadowClan territory without their fallen comrade. They both were somewhat injured.  
**Group 5 (Crowfeather, Ashfoot, Harespring, Heathertail, & Whitetail):**  
Crowfeather and Harespring went to get supplies while the rest dashed for RiverClan territory. Everyone managed to get out with non-life-threatening injuries, except for Harespring who was hurt badly and Crowfeather had to help him out of the fight. Crowfeather's are the second worst.  
**Group 6 (Petalfur, Grasspelt, Rushtail, & Pebblefoot):**  
Rushtail and Pebblefoot went to get supplies. As you saw, Rushtail was badly hurt and Pebblefoot had to help her away, managing to snag only one bundle. The group was aiming for RiverClan territory, but Rushtail lost too much blood and died. Grasspelt and Petalfur made it to their territory with minor injuries.

* * *

**A/N: There ya have it! The first part of the actual Games! Next chapter will be a WindClan POV. :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Whitetail

******A/N: Hey, I updated on time! :D Summer is awesome for that. Also... WOW. O.O This is by far the most popular story I've ever written. Also, because of having so many reviews, I won't be replying to ones that just say stuff like 'good chappie' or 'update soon'. What can I say to those besides 'thanks' or 'I will' anyway? Hehe. Anyway: REVIEWS.**

******Flyere - Split? If you mean some of them will die, then yes. :) I like Dovewing too, but I'm a bit annoyed at Crowfeather. Takin' 3 wives, being all mean to Leafpool when he found out she had his kits... bleh.**

******Badgerfang - I wasn't going to, although I might. You know how they say in the Hunger Games that the Capitol interviews the tributes' families and friends when they get to the top 8? I think I'll make a chapter for that, it'd be awesome.**

******Sunny - Yeah. You know, I could write this book entirely from her POV and have her keep an eye on the other tributes with her powers, but this is so much more exciting. :p Plus the fact if I did that, I'd basically have to make her win, and I'm not making any promises on that. As for Graystripe, well. Read on, my friend.**

******Grayfern - Thank you! I love how with Warriors/Hunger Games crossovers, everyone already knows all the cats, so they're rooting for a bunch of them and are super attached, not like in the regular Hunger Games where you don't know anyone and the only ones you're rooting for are Katniss, Peeta and Rue.**

******MossRose - You'll just have to wait and see. I have some pretty evil plans for some of the groups, though I ain't saying nothin' 'bout Dovewing's. (Wow, I'm random today. I just randomly felt like talking in a Southern accent. xD)**

******Riverpebble - What do you mean there isn't any suspense? Reread that chapter! Every sentence of it! SUSPENSE! x)**

******Rippleshine - Not that bloody, I could be wayyy worse. x) If you think that's bloody reread the end of the Hunger Games. xD**

******SpiritWolf14 - Hm. Actually I just hunted down a fanfic where Katniss and Gale go in the Games instead of Katniss and Peeta, and it looks quite interesting so far.**

****** Okaaayyyy, that took forever. x) Next chappie now! I'm actually rather proud of this one! :)**

* * *

Running. Running running running. That was all there was: her and running. Her and the wind whistling past her ears, the ground thumping beneath her paws, the adrenaline coursing through her veins and the fear pounding in her heart. The world blurred around her, until she knew only of her mad dash for safety, nothing else.

Gradually, the roaring in her ears faded to a dull thrum, and her vision sharpened around her. Once more she became aware of her companions running alongside her, Ashfoot and Heathertail; she became aware of her own breathing, almost panting, the tightness of her chest. Heathertail sounded even worse, her breaths torn and ragged. The WindClan cats had cleared the beach long ago, and the sound beneath their paws had turned to damp soil, tangled with ferns and bushes.

Whitetail caught Ashfoot's eye, and the elderly gray she-cat gave a sharp nod. Whitetail slowed, gradually coming to a stop, her speeding paws tingling from the strenuous run. She and Ashfoot stood, slowly regaining their breath, while Heathertail flopped down at the base of a tree and panted. Odd; the pale brown tabby normally had as much stamina as any WindClan cat, but Whitetail couldn't think much of it now. Harespring and Crowfeather could still be locked in a death match bleeding out on the sand, for all she knew.

Whitetail shuddered, thrusting the image from her mind. She needed... she needed something to _do_ while she waited for their Clanmates to reach them. Padding up to Ashfoot, she mewed quietly, "I think I'll go hunting."

The gray deputy nodded, seeming preoccupied. Whitetail gave her cloud-colored coat a shake and dove into the bushes.

Scenting carefully, ears erect, she scanned the undergrowth with sharp yellow eyes. Hunting would be difficult here, with all these bushes in the way; Whitetail was used to frantic chases across wide open spaces, not skulking around and pouncing on things. _How boring,_ she mused to herself.

A sudden rustle in the undergrowth made her stiffen. She lowered into a hunters' crouch and tasted the air, pinpointing her prey. _Vole._ She drew herself carefully forward, but a twig cracked under her paws and a loud rustle let her know that the vole had scampered away. _Fox-dung!_ she cursed silently. On the moors, you never had to worry about stepping on leaves or twigs. Stalking was used only to get close enough to an animal that you could dart after it and overtake it.

Whitetail tried to think like a forest cat. _I should watch where I'm stepping, for one thing, _she decided,_ and try to keep my tail above the ground._ That was a heck of a lot of extra work, but Whitetail, after a short search, scented mouse and tossed all other thoughts from her mind. She crouched again, and crept toward its scent painfully slowly, meticulously checking for twigs and dry leaves in her path. This time, she actually managed to spot the small animal rooting around at the base of a tree. Licking her lips, she shot forward, claws unsheathed. The mouse, startled, dashed around the tree and she sped after it, intent on her kill. She swerved around bushes and trees in pursuit, but soon realized with disappointment that it had gotten away, perhaps ducking into a hole somewhere.

_See, I knew there were too many trees,_ she thought disgustedly. _There's no way I can keep my eyes on my prey during the chase._

Glancing around, she decided she'd better head back. Harespring and Crowfeather could appear at any second, and they probably had some amount of injuries that would have to be tended to. To her dismay, Whitetail realized that trees blocked another very important function: finding your way around. On the moors, you could see everything, spread out flat like a leaf; it was _difficult_ to get lost, in fact, if you were older than a kit. Here... Whitetail licked her lips nervously.

A flutter of wings and a loud chirrup startled her, and Whitetail looked up in surprise. An odd gray bird perched on a branch above her, holding, oddly, a leaf parcel in its beak. Her heart leaped; her first sponsor present had arrived!

The bird flapped down and dropped the parcel at her paws, then cocked its head at her. "From Eagle-eye," it intoned simply, before flying swiftly away through the branches. Whitetail stared after it in utter shock. Had that bird really just been _meowing_? Flat, toneless, disjointed meowing, but _still_? And that name. Eagle-eye? _A StarClan cat?_ she guessed.

Shaking those thoughts from her mind, Whitetail eagerly ripped open the package. She blinked in surprise. Several small, round, gleaming fruits were lying in the little bundle. _Deathberries!_ Was this a sign from StarClan? Did they want her to _poison_ the other tributes?

Well, no matter. Whitetail scooped up the package in her jaws and looked around nervously, wondering whether yowling Ashfoot and Heathertail's names would be worth possibly alerting enemy tributes in the area. Turns out she didn't have to decide. An earsplitting caterwaul knifed through the air: _"WHITETAIL! WHITETAIL, COME QUICK!"_

Whitetail stiffened, fur bristling, tail lashing. _Heathertail!_ Without hesitation, she leaped in the direction of the yowl, speeding faster than ever, running like a Twoleg's horse: doing what WindClan cats did best. _Oh StarClan. Were they attacked? Are they alright? StarClan, let them be alright!_

She burst into the small clearing they'd rested in, half expecting to see a rabid fox, or vicious ShadowClan or ThunderClan cats, standing over Heathertail and Ashfoot's bleeding bodies: but no. They were unharmed, but wide-eyed and bristling, obviously horrified about something. "What is - " Whitetail started to ask, before falling silent.

Crowfeather and Harespring were back. Crowfeather had only minor injuries, a scratch here or there, but Harespring... The young brown-and-white tom's fur was matted with blood, and as Whitetail was about to demand what in StarClan's name had happened, he collapsed to the ground with a soft groan.

Everyone seemed too shocked to move for a moment, when Ashfoot spoke, her voice low and as calm as could be reasonably expected. "Get moss. All of you. Now." As Whitetail darted off to follow Ashfoot's command, legs shaky and mind whirling, she was reminded of why the gray she-cat had been appointed deputy in the first place.

Shoving down her hysteria, Whitetail messily clawed great chunks of moss off of the nearby trees' roots and trunks. Then she darted back to her dying Clanmate's side, nosing through his matted, bloodied fur to find a large deep gash across his side. Grimly, she began to press moss all along the wound, all the while thinking: _Let him be alright. Let him be alright..._ She'd never been particularly close to him, but he was her Clanmate. The possibility of the young tom's death horrified her.

But as she, Ashfoot, Heathertail, and Crowfeather rushed to and fro, desperately pressing on cobwebs and moss, the _possibility _began to look like a _reality_. Whitetail's heart sank, full of pity. She was jolted out of her thoughts when Heathertail yowled frantically: "It won't stop. IT WON'T STOP!" Whitetail remembered that Harespring was Heathertail's childhood friend. Since Breezepelt's betrayal, Whitetail had worried for the young cat's mental health, and now...

"There's nothing we can do," Ashfoot finally murmured. She stepped back, as did the other WindClan cats, as they watched their Clanmate take his dying breath. His blue eyes fluttered close, the feverish rise and fall of his chest halting.

_**CRACK!**_ Whitetail jumped as the earsplitting noise of a large branch cracking sounded above her head. Her heart hammered in her chest as a pale, ghostly form materialized on the branch of a nearby tree. It leaped off and glided slowly to the ground as if there were wings on its paws. _StarClan?_

_No._ This cat was dark gray with lacing black stripes and yellow eyes. No stars glittered in his fur, but he was shimmering, slightly transparent. _The Dark Forest..._ she realized, chilled.

The cat stepped toward Harespring's body, and every cat scrambled backwards, rigid with shock. Whitetail watched, morbidly mesmerized, as the dark spirit touched his nose to Harespring's. Slowly, the brown-and-white body began to ripple and shimmer, growing gradually more transparent. Both the spirit and Harespring's body began to fade until both became mere glimmering silhouettes, then nothing.

The Games had taken their toll. For the first time, Whitetail felt truly trapped. She had no escape. There was no illusion of victory.

She, and twenty-three other innocent victims, would die in these Games.

Harespring was just the first of many.

* * *

**Tribute Updates**

-Not all will be given, as the next chapter takes place during the same time as this one and features some of the other tributes.-

**Group 2 (Petalfur, Grasspelt, & Pebblefoot)**

Travelling through RiverClan territory, the 3 are well-fed but mourning Ruushtail. Hearing Heathertail's scream, they stumble upon the WindClan cats mourning Harespring. They agree to leave each other peacefully this once, but the Dark Forest dislikes this and sets a fox on them. They manage to kill it and are minorly wounded, Grasspelt being wounded the worst of them.

**Group 3 (Crowfrost & Pinenose)**

The pair escape to ShadowClan territory, shocked from Olivenose's death. Crowfrost encourages Pinenose and insists that the only way they can survive is to go on the offensive. The two are now out for blood.

* * *

**A/N: Dramatic ending YAY! (Yeah and I probably just killed it.) Lol Whitetail trying to use her WindClan hunting skills in RiverClan territory. ;) Next chapter: Bumblestripe & Rosepetal!**


	11. Chapter 11: Bumblestripe & Rosepetal

**A/N: I'm back again folks! And this is now officially THE most popular story I have ever written! Anyway, two new POVs here, Bumble & Rose. We get to check in on our ThunderClan kitties. :) SO, review replies. 13 this time! Not as much as last time but still way more than I ever expected to get!**

**Riverpebble - :| I'll try not to kill it this time, I promise! And yes, another dramatic ending! From here on it is my goal to make EVERY ending dramatic! :D**

**Guest - Argh, I hate the new review system. From now on if you're an anonymous reviewer put "From: _" as the first thing in your review! And no careers yet, but who says some won't develop?**

**Cherrypetal - As shown in chapter 3 (I think... Brightheart's chapter) they had been sending warriors out to capture foxes and badgers and stuff, which they knocked out, dragged back and stuffed into dens. In Crowfeather's chapter you see that Dark Forest cats can take living beings into the spirit world. They also can appear anywhere they want in the living world using spirit powers, with a living being also. So put those two things together and you've got some awesome evil Gamemakers! :D**

**Guest 2 - I definitely plan to publish books when I grow up. Now I'm not sure if I'll actually be able to, but I will certainly try! ;D**

**Coffee-flavored Ice Cream - I have some ideas for the finalists, but no concrete plan on the winners. :)**

**Guest 4 - Personally, I'm a fan of Squirrelflight, Leafpool, Bumblestripe, Dovewing, Tawnypelt, Graystripe and Heathertail. Though Heathertail mostly because of the crazy stuff I've planned for her and the fact I like half insane characters, and Graystripe I'm kind of iffy on because I've never really forgiven him for taking a second mate. And Dovewing mostly because she's one of the Three and could be seriously useful in overthrowing the DF, and since Bumble loves her. She started really annoying me in The Last Hope. So... yeah.**

* * *

Bumblestripe was worried. Dovewing, running alongside him, was half-limping with an uneven gait, scratches scored down her flanks. She was breathing hard, ears flattened, eyes wide and haunted. She'd frozen up during the bloodbath, and Bumblestripe had had to practically drag her out. She'd come back to her senses before too long, luckily. Meanwhile, Brightheart pounded along and Graystripe, who had caught up quickly after darting in for supplies, dashed nearby with several leaf parcels clutched in his jaws.

After what seemed like forever, Graystripe raised his tail and the group skidded to a stop, panting for breath. Dark, sombre pine trees rose up around them, casting long black shadows. Prickly, sharp-smelling pine needles blanketed the earth, prodding uncomfortably at Bumblestripe's paw pads. Unlike ThunderClan territory, the undergrowth was sparse, leaving ominous spaces inbetween the pine trees...

He glanced around at his teammates again, and instantly his anxiety returned as he saw Dovewing leaning up against a tree. Her eyes were glazed, staring at nothing. Suddenly her ears flicked and she cringed, eyes coming back into focus as the darted across the ground.

"Dovewing?" He sidled up beside her, voice filled with gentle concern. "Are you okay?" She flinched, and hurt and worry pierced him. He dashed to a nearby bush, tearing cobwebs from dew-flecked branches. "Here," he meowed hopefully.

Dovewing shrugged him away, even though her wounds were still bleeding. She began to speak, so quietly Bumblestripe almost couldn't understand the words. "I need to tell you all something." Graystripe and Brightheart looked up, eyes bright with surprise.

"Let me treat you first," he ordered.

"But I need to - "

He harshly cut off her struggling reply. "Herbs first."

"No!" she snapped, blue eyes flashing. Bumblestripe stepped back, startled. "My wounds aren't that deep. I'll be fine! I've survived worse!" Her voice rose almost to a yowl, and then she hunched down, shoulders tense, shaking slightly.

"What is it, Dovewing?" Brightheart asked her granddaughter gently. The air was tight with suspense, all cats waiting for the aforementioned warrior's next words.

The fluffy pale gray she-cat shook her head as if scattering troublesome raindrops, and her ears flattened. "I... it's something I should have... we should have... told you all a long time ago," she stammered out.

No cat spoke a word. Bumblestripe held his breath without realizing he was doing so.

"I'm part of a prophecy," she burst out finally.

"A prophecy?" echoed Brightheart.

" 'There will be three, kin of your kin, who hold the power of the stars in their paws,' " Dovewing recited, in the tone of someone repeating a line said often. "It was given to Firestar many seasons ago."

"And he didn't tell anyone?" asked Graystripe incredulously.

Dovewing shook her head, looking intensely uncomfortable. "No. I don't think he understood it, and..." Her brow furrowed. "He got it while far away. It wasn't until much later we found out what it meant and who was part of it... Jayfeather, Lionblaze, and I."

Bumblestripe gaped. His average-seeming Clanmates, including Dovewing... part of a huge epic prophecy? With the power of the _stars_ in their paws?

"Not only that - " she drew a shuddery breath - "we have... powers. Jayfeather senses emotions and walks in dreams. Lionblaze can't be hurt in battle. And I... I can see and hear things far away."

He could barely believe his ears. Of course... Memories flashed by his eyes. All the times Jayfeather had inexplicably seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. All the times Lionblaze had dominated the battle scene without a scratch on his pelt. All the times Dovewing heard things long before he or any other cat could...

"And there was another prophecy," the she-cat whispered hoarsely. " 'Three must become four to battle the darkness that lasts forever.' But we didn't find the Fourth. We couldn't. And now... the darkness really might last forever..." She bowed her head, blue eyes bleak. She looked so young, so fragile. So broken.

She had always been a gentle, kind cat, who disliked battle. And now, she could see every death scene, hear every dying scream. No wonder she looked haunted.

"Dovewing?" Bumblestripe murmured softly.

"Yeah?" She glanced up, looking as though she expected him to rebuke her for keeping the secret for so long.

"How about those herbs?"

* * *

_**THE NEXT MORNING (DAY 2)...**_

_"Rosepetal! Rosepetal!" The desperate cries echoed through the endless void, piercing the ears of a young dark cream she-cat. Tendrils of eerie mist wreathed around her, dampening her paws. "Rosepetal!"_

_"Mother! Father! Hazeltail! Toadstep!" the she-cat wailed. Suddenly, eyes gleamed out of the darkness. The mist turned to blood, reddening and dropping to the ground in crimson puddles._

_"Rosepetal, you lazy dormouse,_

wake up!"

The young she-cat jolted awake, panting. She squeezed her crystal-blue eyes shut. _It was a dream... Thank StarClan, it was just a dream_ She looked up into the gray-and-white face of the cat who'd woken her: Hazeltail, her older half-sister. Alive. Not dead. Alive...

...so far.

She couldn't believe she'd been in the Games for a full day. She, Hazeltail, and their mother, Daisy, had escaped from yesterday's bloodbath with minor injuries - a cut here, a gash there - but without any of the possibly life-saving supplies stocked at the tree-bridge. But the sponsors had been very generous, perhaps just out of pity for Daisy, the cat who could barely fight. So far they'd received a large swathe of cobwebs, a dog-tooth collar, _twelve_ pieces of prey, and two cleverly curled leaves filled with water. Silverfire and Nightstorm had been named as the sponsors... no one Rosepetal knew, but they could be aliases. Hazeltail had carefully dug the dog teeth out of the collar and affixed them to her own claws, like BloodClan cats of old, before burying the collar under a nearby bush. The sight made Rosepetal shiver.

The previous day they had made it deep into ShadowClan territory and had slept at the base of a tree, their supplies piled between them. As night fell, the strangest thing happened; a voice boomed in the sky, ordering tributes to proceed to the nearest puddle. Shrugging, they had done so, only to practically have a heart attack when the surface rippled and an image appeared in it. The voice rumbled that during the day, Olivenose of ShadowClan, Rushtail of RiverClan, and Harespring of WindClan had died, accompanied by images of them. No one from ThunderClan, yet.

If Hazeltail and Rosepetal had any say in it, ThunderClan would have the victor: Daisy. Their plan was as close to flawless as it could be. They would get to ThunderClan territory as quickly as possible, where they knew every tree, bush, and fern. There they would wait out the Games, biding their time, killing anyone who came too close. Eventually, the other tributes would kill each other, and they'd be left. The three of them. Rosepetal blinked.

The Dark Forest had said there would be only one victor, but... what if she, Hazeltail, and Daisy were the only ones left? And refused to fight?

"Rosepetal!" Hazeltail's sharp mew jolted her from her reverie. "Great St- " She broke herself off, before snapping, "What's up with you this morning? You're so absentminded!"

Rosepetal nearly sighed with relief. Good, she hadn't said it. The Dark Forest had made it very clear that belief in StarClan was banned. They were not to be idolized, not to be contacted, not even to be mentioned. If Hazeltail - or any of them - spoke of StarClan, who knew what the Dark Forest would do? They could "conveniently" unleash some danger on the group, as unspoken punishment for their transgression.

"Let's eat," Hazeltail, the unofficial leader of the group, meowed. Daisy nodded numbly, and each snatched a bit of prey from their cache. Rosepetal chose a thrush. She was sick of mice, they were almost the only thing their captors had fed her in the harrowing half-moon leading up to the Games.

After they'd finished, six pieces of prey remained. Two mice, a vole, a shrew, a squirrel, and a robin. The mysterious sponsors had been kind enough to send a variety of prey. "On to ThunderClan," Hazeltail meowed grimly. Daisy nodded, sky blue eyes dim and cream fur unkempt as she picked up two mice and a parcel of cobwebs. Hazeltail snagged the vole and squirrel, while Rosepetal carried the robin and the shrew.

_Yes. On to ThunderClan, indeed._

* * *

The day dragged on as they trekked further and further into ShadowClan territory. If they were lucky, they'd make it to ThunderClan by nightfall. Hopefully, they'd be the first to do so.

The trip was uneventful, though, and they walked, mostly in silence for the better part of the day. Finally, they stopped a bit after sunhigh to rest by a trickling stream that wound through ShadowClan's pines. The undergrowth was beginning to thicken now, a sure sign that they would soon break over the border into ThunderClan land.

They lounged around for the better part of an hour, drinking from the stream and sharing a mouse. Hazeltail even caught a water vole, surely a rare find in ShadowClan territory, which they added to their store. They were about to forge on, closer to their final destination, when a threatening growl made the hair on Rosepetal's spine raise.

It was a sound she knew. A sound engraved into every cat's heart, one that would make any quiver in fear.

The growl of a badger.

Of course. The Games had been too boring today. Too few deaths. Not enough action. Of course, they would set one of their captured badgers on the tributes, of course they would set it on ThunderClan, who had so many tributes, who had the "useless" Daisy...

She turned around. Very, very slowly. Her paws began to tremble as an icy wave of fear lapped at her belly fur. Hazeltail and Daisy were beside her. Very, very quiet. Very, very still.

"Daisy," Hazeltail hissed, her mouth barely moving. "Run."

For a split second, Daisy was completely unmoving, a cat carved out of stone. Then, she stood. Suddenly, she whipped around, darting like quicksilver in the opposite direction, scrambling up a tree as fast as possible.

The badger lunged.

It exploded out of the undergrowth, jaws bared in a hideous roar. Its pelt was dusty and ruffled, sagging off easily visible bones. This badger was starved. The Dark Forest must not have fed it the entire time it was in their custody. It would eat anything it got its paws on... including her.

Hazeltail leaped forward with a snarl, the dog fangs on her claws gleaming dangerously. She slashed it hard across the chest and whirled away from its snapping fangs. Rosepetal shoved down her fear best she could and jumped forward, scratching at its shoulders before darting away. Its jaws clacked, missing her tail by less than a whiskerlength. _This isn't working!_ she thought in panic. _Unless..._ She narrowed her eyes.

As the badger was distracted, lunging for Hazeltail (who sped nimbly away), Rosepetal dashed around behind it and jumped on its back. She scrambled up to its shoulders and slashed at its eyes with an angry yowl. It roared and reared back; scrabbling for a grip, she fell off and crouched as it landed heavily back on its paws. Blood dripped into its eyes, temporarily blinding it. "Good work, little sister!" Hazeltail panted as she sped past. "Let's go in for the kill!"

Rosepetal nodded, blue eyes full of determination. She ran over, mercilessly ripping at its sides with unsheathed claws. Hazeltail raced in, dog-fang-strengthened claws gleaming, going straight for its throat. One good swipe there and it would be over for the badger.

At the last moment, the badger shook its head, scarlet droplets of blood flying into the air - saw Hazeltail - and - _"HAZELTAIL!" _shrieked Rosepetal. The badger had closed its jaws around her, and now it shook her like a wet leaf and flung her into the air. With a sickening _thud_, she hit a nearby tree and slithered to the ground. Rosepetal flung herself across the earth, nosing her half-sister's shoulder pleadingly.

Hazeltail's eyes fluttered open, and she struggled to her paws, clearly hurting all over. The badger turned, malice gleaming in its eyes. It lunged, and the two she-cats barely managed to get out of the way in time.

The badger lumbered after them, and Rosepetal's heart sank. Their attacks had had barely any effect. Meanwhile, Rosepetal was quickly tiring, moving slower. Hazeltail was clearly in pain and limping. One of her ankles had been sprained. Suddenly, the badger lunged, swatting Hazeltail to the side with one monstrous paw. She yelped and skidded across the ground.

"Hazeltail!" Rosepetal yowled out, frantic.

"Rosepetal." Hazeltail's voice was faint and strangely calm. "Go get Mother. Run away. Get out of here as fast as you can."

Rosepetal's eyes widened as she realized what her half-sister was trying to do. "No! I won't leave you!" she shouted desperately.

"You have to!" Hazeltail snapped back. The badger had turned now and was starting slowly toward her. "Run. Now! Get somewhere safe. Join another ThunderClan group, Graystripe's or Brambleclaw's!" Rosepetal stayed stubbornly frozen to her spot, tears pricking her eyes. "Now, Rosepetal! Get out of here! GO!" Hazeltail screeched.

Shaking with horror, fear, and pain, Rosepetal backed away slowly, tears beginning to singe her fur. "No," she whispered. "No." Then, suddenly, she whirled around and darted away, paws pounding the earth, tail streaming out behind her, branches and leaves whipping in her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks, whirling into thin air. _Hazeltail..._

Behind her, a branch cracked.

* * *

**DEATHS**

Hazeltail of ThunderClan

**Tribute Updates**

(Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, Squirrelflight, Leafpool, & Tigerheart):

So far, they're doing fine and heading, you guessed it, for ThunderClan territory. I wonder how long this will last...?

(Crowfrost & Pinenose):

So far undisturbed, they are beginning to set up traps throughout ShadowClan. Just a matter of time...

(Crowfeather, Ashfoot, Heathertail, & Whitetail):

The group has moved on from Harespring's death and are now setting out for WindClan.

(Petalfur, Grasspelt, & Pebblefoot):

Grasspelt received herbs from a sponsor and is back on his feet, but now has a slight limp. They are planning to stay in RiverClan territory.

* * *

**A/N: Not much action for the other groups as of yet, but their time will come. The next chapter will be another one with 2 POVs. One will be Crowfrost. For the other I'm considering Squirrelflight, Ashfoot, or Petalfur.**

**Also...**

**TO ANONYMOUS REVIEWERS: PUT "FROM:" AND THEN A NAME AS THE FIRST THING IN YOUR REVIEW!**


	12. Chapter 12: Tigerheart

**A/N: ARGH WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP FAVORITING THIS IT MAKES ME FEEL GUILTY**

**...**

**...**

**.**

**i'll spare you the big ol' long 'late update rant', here's your chapter**

* * *

**DAY THREE**

"There was only one death yesterday," growled the dark brown tom, his voice on edge.

"I know. I happened to be watching, like we all are," a tabby tom, his brown fur even darker, replied curtly.

The first tom hissed. "These things are supposed to be exciting, you know. The cats of the Dark Forest are beginning to be bored with cats wandering around drawing closer to the safety of their home territory. Things haven't gone as planned. There were supposed to be many deaths in the bloodbath, not just two," he went on, his voice rising in annoyance as he continued. "Only four cats have died! Four! In two days! We're going to have to mix it up soon or this whole idea will be a fail - "

His complaining voice was cut off as the tabby leaped forward with a snarl, slicing him across the face. "I know, Brokenstar," he growled menacingly. His tail lashed, amber eyes like steel. "Now unless you want to find out where a spirit goes after it's been killed," he threatened, "I suggest you shut your flea-bitten muzzle. Besides," he added in an ominous purr, "I have a plan. A plan that will change everything."

Brokenstar sat up, glaring at the tabby hatefully. _Treating me like a subordinate - I terrorized the forest before you even began to think of killing Redtail... _But instead he just gave his chest fur a lick. "Of course, Tigerstar. I shouldn't have doubted you..."

* * *

Tigerheart sat up abruptly, covering his chest in swift licks. Pants ripped through his chest, and he took deep breaths, reminding himself over and over, _It wasn't real, it wasn't real_. He glanced up; dawn light filtered hazily through the crisscrossing pine branches. The sun was rising, peeking hesitantly over the horizon.

_Not again..._ He'd been having nightmares since the Games had begun. He suspected many tributes were, probably even many cats back in the Clans. His nightmares were full of blood and despair. He saw himself dying, Tawnypelt dying, Dovewing dying. He saw himself, crazed for blood, killing Crowfrost and Pinenose. He saw himself, standing before Tigerstar, head bowed in respect and allegiance. He saw spirits from the Dark Forest, coming for him, eyes murderous.

_Just a dream._

He glanced back at his companions. They were all still sleeping. Leafpool and Squirrelflight were curled into a tight little ball, side-by-side, a little bit aways from the others. He, Tawnypelt, and Brambleclaw had each been sprawled out somewhat close to each other, though now, there was a quickly cooling jumble of thinly-spread moss where he had been sleeping.

He might as well do something useful before they woke. Tigerheart trotted purposefully into the undergrowth, intending to hunt.

It went... well. Prowling through his home territory, where he knew every nook and cranny, felt almost good, but... it was... different. It wasn't just his safe little chunk of home anymore. It almost felt like he was creeping through an enemy Clan's territory. Danger could be anywhere. Hostile cats could spring out at him any moment. He had to watch his back. It was the same place he'd grown up in... but eerily changed. He didn't like it.

He'd never been an exceptionally good hunter, but he was decent. He managed to catch a mouse, shrew, and frog within the hour. As he headed back, the same old thoughts swarmed through his mind.

_Should I tell them?_

_...no. Tawnypelt would be heartbroken. I still can't..._

_What about the other things? The secrets you know?_

_No._

_It could save their lives._

_No, it couldn't. We're all doomed. Except for one of us._

_Tell them._

He blinked. He was almost back to their makeshift camp. Tawnypelt was stirring and stretching, while Brambleclaw blinked sleep out of his eyes. "Hi, Tigerheart," his mother yawned.

"Hello, Mother," he replied, but his voice was muffled by his catch, so it sounded more like, "Hewwo, Muffah." He set the prey at her feet.

Tawnypelt's gaze sharpened. "Did you go off on your own?"

Oh, brother. He decided to opt for a simple "Yes."

"You know you aren't supposed to do that, Tigerheart!" Her voice rose to a distressed cry. "You could be... be... be killed any moment!"

"Yup." He chose the mouse from his miniature prey pile, picking it up by the tail. A yummy morsel, it was.

"_Tigerheart! __**Listen**_to me!" she growled. "You have to stay with us. That's final. I couldn't bear not knowing where you were, and then... then... seeing your face in one of those puddles or something at night!"

Guilt twinged through him, sharp and fast. "Yes, Mother." He took a bite of his mouse. "Someone will have to hunt more. There's not enough for everyone."

His voice was calm, collected.

Tawnypelt nodded. "Alright. I'll go out with... Squirrelflight? Are you up for it?" Tigerheart hadn't noticed she was awake, but the dark ginger she-cat yawned, nodding, and got to her paws.

As the pair of she-cats began to pad deeper into ShadowClan's land, Tigerheart suddenly had a flash of panic. "Wait!" They turned questioningly, and the young tom's heart began to beat harder. "I need to tell everyone something."

Curiosity and confusion alike flashed in his mother's eyes. She twitched her shoulders in a small shrug, exchanging glances with Squirrelflight. Before he knew it, his entire little group had settled down in front of him, intrigued, including a bleary-eyed Leafpool.

He wasn't sure what to say. He just knew... if he really was going to leave, betraying everyone... he needed to make it worth it. To make up for it. Taking a deep breath, he meowed, "You all know now... how I spied... for the Dark Forest?" Slowly, they nodded. "Yeah. Like Ivypool. Though at first... I wasn't really..."

He gulped. What was he saying? Be like Rowanclaw. Be like Rowanclaw. He took another deep breath. And started over. "Well, Tigerstar trusted me. And he told me things, important things. He let me in on some key details about the Warriors Games. Details that could possibly be helpful for us."

Interest immediately piqued in the faces of his teammates. Suddenly, Brambleclaw's tail lashed. "Why didn't you tell us before?! We could have been following insider tips all this time?!"

"I was just confused," Tigerheart admitted honestly. "Shocked. About being chosen. I didn't really think of it, and besides, it's a delicate matter." Brambleclaw let out a hiss of frustration, but Tigerheart chose to ignore it.

"He told me about pretty much everything we've experienced so far. But also... that they could manipulate things in the 'arena'. They've already told us about this a bit, but you might not know how far they can manipulate things.

"For example, spirits - both Dark Forest and StarClan - can influence the weather. For example, if they really, really didn't want me telling you this, they could strike me down with lightning right now. This very moment.

"Or, they could use their 'powers' to take one of the animals they've trapped and make it appear a tail-length away from me.

"And if there's one thing I learned, they don't want the Games to be boring. They're supposed to be..." he cringed inwardly... " 'exciting'. There are supposed to be deaths, every day, blood and suffering, until there's one cat left. I'm sure it's been too quiet for their tastes. They're going to shake something up, and soon."

Tigerheart could see surprise and worry ripple through his companions' eyes. "What do you think they'll try?" Brambleclaw asked. His tail bristled, but he was the calmest of the four. He could understand, at least a bit; he, too, had trained with Tigerstar and knew his ways.

"Well - " Tigerheart considered - "they'll... want to force cats together. Make us fight. Barely any groups have battled yet, as far as we know, mostly just at the bloodbath. And just two cats died there... it was supposed to be more. Like, six. Or eight."

Tawnypelt spoke up. "Our strategy was to head straight for our home territory. I'm sure a lot of cats did the same. They'd feel comforted, at least a little, if they were where they belonged."

Tigerheart nodded. "Yes... They'll probably do something to prevent us all from getting to our home territories. That would be boring. We'd all try to hide out, and if any Clan had multiple groups, they wouldn't want to fight each other. They'll probably try to keep things focused where this started out."

"ShadowClan's territory," Leafpool meowed. "ShadowClan's and RiverClan's. They wouldn't want tributes making it to the furthest areas from the beginning... WindClan and ThunderClan. By the time tributes can do that, there will be virtually no chance of us fighting each other."

Tigerheart nodded. "They'll want to stop the WindClan or ThunderClan tributes. The only question is... how? And whether it will affect us?"

The group exchanged nervous glances. Either a group of cats would be soon headed toward them, destined for battle... or a catastrophe of some other sort would be coming down on their heads. Neither sounded exactly rosy.

Tigerheart didn't want to abandon them. But he didn't know how much longer he could take this, this... this torturous not knowing. He just didn't know which 'not knowing' was worse... not knowing what happened to his mother, not knowing what happened to his Clanmates, or not knowing what happened to Dovewing.

Soon, he was going to find out.

* * *

**A/N: Ohh yes it's finally here. Sorry for dropping off the face of the earth guys! I was suffering a HUGE lack of motivation. Thanks to Puzzlefreak14 for PMing me... it was just the kick in the rear I needed to finish up this chapter.**

**Also... OH MY GOD **_**115 REVIEWS.**_** Just... aseruaemta;ectmaetn. Wow. I've NEVER had a story that got 100 reviews, or more than 60 reviews actually. This is almost twice that already. And we still have lots more chapters to go. Wow. I also **_**can't**_** believe that in the almost-two-months since my last update I've gotten 52 reviews (if I counted correctly.) That's just... amazing. Thank you, everyone. I couldn't write this story without you. Honestly. I would have given up by now.**

**So, review replies. To the ones with questions or more meaningful comments, anyway, not that I don't value all reviews, it's just that this would be super-freaking-crazy long if I answered all of them. (And a lot of them would just say "thanks" anyway)**

**Guest 1 - Yes. I'm trying not to favor ThunderClan, though it's a bit hard with lots of our faves being in it. :p But I did make a ThunderClan cat die in the chapter after you reviewed.**

**Icetalon15 - I don't plan on using that, but I do have... **_**plans**_** for them. *muahahahaha***

**Katelyn - I actually do plan to put out some polls. There's still too many cats left to do that right now, though. :)**

**Riverpebble - Hazeltail for sure, actually. Daisy's still alive... for now.**

**Cherrypetal - Nah it's cool. I didn't make it very clear really. *MYSTERIOUS SPIRIT POWERS FTW* I think they should be more powerful than the latest books make them out to be...**

**Hazelblossom - Wow, thanks! That's a huge compliment for me. I love making my stories chock full of emotion. :)**

**Puzzlefreak14 - Thank you for the PM! It basically just made me get off my lazy butt and finish this. And yeah... that's kind of what the RiverClan cats were originally gonna be, but then I got some pretty great ideas for them. Grasspelt POV is next! :D**

**Stormfeather of IceClan - I do plan on doing a Petalfur POV. However, it may be a while til I get to her. It might be 5 chapters before I get to her POV. (Hey, at least it lets you know she's still alive by then. :) )**

**SpiritWolf14 - That would be completely epic. I won't give you the details... ;)**

**Maplepaw46 - Thanks, and I hope you get more reviews. Also, have you seen my PM? I'm sorry - I **_**absolutely**_** didn't mean that stuff that way, and I even changed my profile to clarify it, so other people don't get confused. :) Also, I do plan to do another Squirrelflight POV in the future, just not yet.**

**Moonlitsun2000 - Lol you might wanna read that stuff, it may be important x3 And a lot of crossover fics ARE dumb, or spoofs. But this is definitely a serious fic.**

**Lanablue711 - Yeah... I guess it is a bit out of hand, isn't it? XD But so far I'm handling it, and it's making for a **_**much**_** more interesting story than if I just focused on a few cats. And Crowfrost and Pinenose **_**will**_** end up with some new teammates... not saying anything else... :)**

**Rubyflight - I made you cry? *gaspeth* It surprises me when people say that, lol. I rarely cry when reading/watching anything. I'm happy my story touched you that much. :)**

**Mrs. Winchester512 - To your first question, that was answered in PMs so yeah. :) To your second, I used Messletters.**

**Next chapter: Grasspelt! And possibly Heathertail!**


	13. Chapter 13: Grasspelt

**A/N: New chapter allleert!~ It's been a couple of weeks, but with the school year starting and all that hectic... ness... and chaos you can't blame me. With school and all you may not be able to expect more updates than every two weeks. But I'll try. :)**

**Anyway... writing this chapter kind of took a lot out of me. It's a very heavy chapter. o.o So... review replies!**

**Puzzlefreak14 - You are welcome my friend! I'd been debating getting writing for quite a while, but once I get un-motivated it's pretty hard to get myself back into it. It was just the kick in the rear I needed to finally write this. ;D That kind of happened to me this time, but I kind of forced myself to sit down and write for at least 10 minutes, and then my inspiration kind of kicked in and hear is this lovely new chapter. :) Also, the blood rain thing is a good idea, but I'm not sure I can really put it in here, because I want to keep it realistic (or at least as realistic as a Warriors/Hunger Games crossover can be).**

**Flie - I wasn't really planning for anything to happen with Brokenstar and Tigerstar, but now plot bunnies are hopping all over my head. Perhaps we'll see that in the sequel...?**

**Maplepaw46 - You're welcome! I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. I would definitely also feel angry if I saw what you thought that was on someone's profile. D;**

**Thelovethatneverwas - Thanks! And yeah, most Warriors/Hunger Games crossovers are quite nonsensical. With mutts and actual cannon booms and weird technology stuff and such. As I said in my reply to Puzzlefreak14, I'm trying to keep this realistic. Just a Hunger Games in the Warriors universe, nothing more, nothing less. And I'm not really getting bored with my story... I just need to keep myself writing or I get really lazy. x)**

**Cynthia Fowl - Good question. Actually, for the sake of the whole Hunger Games idea, I made nobody die. Unrealistic, I know, but if half the Clans died when the Dark Forest took over who would there be for the Games? I actually have an idea of how the Dark Forest won with no deaths, but if I choose to actually use it, it will have to wait until the sequel which may-or-may-not be published.**

**Mosslight of ShadowClan - Thanks! And it's fine, I read really really fast too. x3 And I won't tell you who, but I do have a death or two planned in Tigerheart's group...**

**Skypaw of StormClan - I've seen a story like that before, actually. I don't remember having a real great impression of it, but that could partly be because the Katniss character was named, well, Catfur. :p But it could be good, if executed well. (Actually, I see you've already started writing it - I'll have to drop you a review. :) )**

**Epikcheese - There probably will be some epic battles, and having it take place on WindClan territory is a good idea. However, that will not happen just yet. :)**

**Sophtiger - M'kay, I'll check it out. *gaspeth* DovexTiger! I'm a DovexBumble fan myself, partly because forbidden love is just SOOOO overused. But I'm not for sure for sure who she'll end up with, if anyone, before/if she dies in this story.**

**Cherrypetal - "Lived longer and killed more kits." xD I can totally imagine the Dark Forest having a ranking system based on who killed the most kits while they were alive. xD**

* * *

_**DAY FIVE**_

"Father." The dark brown tom dipped his head, ice-blue eyes glittering unnervingly.

"Yes, Hawkfrost?" another tom asked, eyes burning like molten amber.

Hawkfrost lifted his chin. "As I'm sure you know, Tigerheart has spilled his knowledge to his group. He was actually quite accurate of our plans."

The amber-eyed tabby grunted. "I'm surprised this didn't happen sooner."

A slightly puzzled look entered Hawkfrost's eyes. "You're not concerned about it?" The older tom did not reply at first, muzzle lifted to a star-filled sky, as though contemplating something of great importance. "Tigerstar," the younger snapped.

The tabby finally replied. "No. If they know what will happen, what of it? I didn't tell him everything. There are plans not even Tigerheart knows of. Besides..." He chuckled darkly. "Knowing of a disaster won't prevent them from being damaged by it. They are in these Games to die, and die they will. No..." a smile curled his muzzle, "go through with it as planned. And Hawkfrost?"

"Yes?" the tom responded, slightly frustrated.

"If there aren't any ThunderClan deaths soon, we may have to whip something up for them. Can you handle it?"

A sinister smile slipped across Hawkfrost's face. "I won't disappoint you, Father."

* * *

Grasspelt lifted his head, blinking sleep from his eyes. He rose to his paws and stretched painfully; scabs tightened along his sides. He didn't like to admit how close he'd been to death. Several days ago, his group had stumbled upon WindClan, weary from the loss of Rushtail. Turns out they were also mourning a death; young Harespring had succumbed to wounds from the bloodbath.

Pebblefoot - their unofficial 'leader' - had spotted them first and wanted to attack, but gentle Petalfur had reasoned with him. "We'll leave you in peace," she'd told them, "just this once, in respect of the fallen." Then they'd parted ways.

This must have displeased the Dark Forest. Barely an hour later, a ravenous fox charged onto the scene. They were all injured, but Grasspelt the most. Long scars twisted down his sides, and bite marks laced his left foreleg. Only gifts from his... what was the word...? _sponsors_ had kept him from dying.

His companions were resting nearby. His sister's gray-and-white flank softly rose and fell; he felt a strong burst of love for her, and for Beetlewhisker - to his surprise, not hate, but sadness.

"Grasspelt..." He jumped - it was Pebblefoot. The mottled gray warrior rose to his paws, giving his pelt a shake. "Let's fish. Hopefully we'll be able to stay here and fight off whatever they throw at us." The trio had found a shady, lush spot relatively close to their camp.

"I don't want to leave Petalfur..." Grasspelt mewed uncertainly.

Pebblefoot considered. "Well... You've always been the best fisher. How 'bout you go to the Mossy Stream, and I'll fish in one of the creeks near her."

Grasspelt nodded. The Mossy Stream was one of the larger - and better for fishing - in RiverClan territory, named for its numerous large, moss-covered rocks. Apprentices went there often to gather the moss for new nests. He set off purposefully, a spring to his step for the first time in days.

It took him a while to reach the Mossy Stream, but he was soon dipping his toes in its clear cool water. He bent down, lapping contentedly, before getting down to business.

He positioned himself on a mostly flat rock jutting over its waters, making sure his shadow didn't fall onto the stream. Then he waited, scanning its depths for fish. Silent, still, poised, patient - the four essential skills of fishing, taught to each new RiverClan apprentice.

A dark flash - whipping paw - silver spray - and _bite!_ A flopping fish in his powerful jaws. He bent to set it on the stone slab beside him, when suddenly -

A huge weight barrelled into his back, causing him to yowl in shock and panic. Suddenly he was underwater, flailing desperately as paws held him down. Sharp claws dug into his shoulders. Struggling for a solution, he stilled, then surged upward, knocking his attacker back. He gulped in air as he sat up in the stream, whirling to face the cat who'd ambushed him.

The scent of WindClan hit him; a light brown tabby stood on the rock, claws unsheathed and tail lashing. "Heathertail, wait!" came a loud cry. Seconds later, the rest of WindClan's tributes burst into view, and icy fear coursed through Grasspelt's veins. He jumped to a standing position. The stream swept by his drenched legs, chest-deep.

"Heathertail, we can't kill him!" a white she-cat scolded. "They let us go, remember?"

"So?" Heathertail spat. "How do we know they won't attack us _next_ time?"

"Heathertail may be right," an almost-black tom meowed. _Crowfeather,_ Grasspelt realized; the WindClan tom, being part of a prophecy, was quite famous. "We could hold him, as bait. When his friends come looking for him, we could take them all out."

"We'll do no such thing," Ashfoot - the WindClan deputy, also famous - snapped.

"Um, guys?" the white cat asked quietly.

"Why not?" Crowfeather demanded. "We'll never get anywhere in these Games if we're afraid to kill."

"Guys?" the white cat tried again.

"I never thought I'd hear my own son talk that way!" Ashfoot shouted. "Or maybe you and Breezepelt are more alike than you think!"

Crowfeather bristled, and Heathertail stiffened. "If that's what you thi - "

"HEY, GUYS!" the white cat yowled at the top of her lungs.

"HOLY MOTHER OF WINDSTAR WHAT IS IT WHIETAIL?!" Ashfoot exploded.

"D-do you smell that too?" Whitetail stammered nervously.

Everyone fell silent, which Grasspelt was grateful for (listening to cats discuss your demise isn't the most pleasant thing in the world). They sniffed the air, and after a moment, so did he. Instantly, his fur stood on end. Was that...?

"S-Smoke?" Heathertail stuttered. "B-But that would mean..."

Grasspelt's eyes widened. She was right. The only reason there would be smoke was...

The realization seemed to hit him all at once. He turned around, fur spiked, and his legs instantly began to shake in horror. He could hear it now, a dull roar growing louder by the second. And in the distance, bright flames flickered between the trees, consuming all, destroying everything in its path.

He was directly in that path. In the path of a wildfire.

"R-r-r-ru..." Heathertail mewed, voice quivering. "_RUN!_"

Grasspelt needed no second urging. He was off in a moment, panic coursing through him, running for all he was worth. His mind raced as he fled over bush and stone and stream, begging for a course of action. He couldn't very well just keep running, try to outrun the fire. That would be a fatal mistake. But he couldn't just stay here, either. But maybe...

_Water!_ The only thing that could quench flames. And he was a RiverClan cat, well-adapted to such things. If he could get into a large body of water... stay low... the fire wouldn't be able to hurt him. And what larger body of water... than the lake!

Grasspelt hoped with all his heart that Petalfur and Pebblefoot would think the same way as he. And they were closer to the lake than he was. _They'll make it,_ he told himself again and again, _they'll make it._

But would he? His breath was quickly becoming ragged, and his paws ached and bled as sharp pebbles were lodged into them. The WindClan cats were flashing through the trees, far ahead of him even in his home territory.

He paused for breath, just for a moment. In that moment, he turned around, just to see where the fire was, and suddenly panic and shock took him like a dark tide, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

It was close, much too close. Tree after tree went alight, burning like torches, sparks leaping from their blackened leaves and advancing the fire still further. It had almost caught up to him.

Barely having caught his breath, he sucked it up, turned, and _ran for his life. The lake is close. The lake is close,_ he reminded himself. _No more than ten minutes away._ He could make it... couldn't he?

But the air around him heated up quickly, until he felt like his fur was about to be scorched off. Only several minutes had passed before the fire was upon him. Fire shot up trees nearby him, and pure frantic fear and adrenaline shot through his veins. His legs pumped up and down as he ran faster than he thought was possible, faster even than the WindClan cats he'd seen hunting rabbits. But embers flew through the air, peppering his pelt with pain. The wildfire's cataclysmic cacophony roared in his ears, threatening to deafen him. _Please, StarClan,_ he begged. _Oh, StarClan, please._

Scathing winds whipped his face and sparks singed his whiskers. He felt like he was being roasted slowly alive. _Get out get out get out! RUN!_ his brain screamed. He stumbled as he stepped on a burning twig, pain shooting through his paws. Soon, he was panting heavily again, but this time it felt as if a hand was pressing down on his chest. His throat was unbelievably sore, and his heaving breaths were punctuated by hacking coughs.

Up ahead, a flash of gray startled him. A cat? _Petalfur!_ His heart leaped, in fear for his sister or joy at seeing her, he knew not. But soon, he realized it _wasn't_ Petalfur. It was...

Ashfoot! Shouldn't she be with her Clanmates? What was she doing back here? He poured on as much extra speed as he could, which wasn't much; his limbs were feeling fatigued now, his paws like heavy stones, as if he just wanted to lie down and sleep. "Ashfoot!" he called.

The deputy's ears pricked, and just as she turned her head, without stopping, to see him, a cracking noise joined the many other cracklings and poppings. A big burning branch groaned and dropped from the tree above... landing directly on Ashfoot. He gasped, skidding to a stop, and her scream rang through the forest.

_Should I save her? Can I save her?_

It seemed to have crushed her back legs. And now, fire from the branch began to flicker on her fur. The elderly deputy began to shriek. The most hair-raising, heart-wrenching, blood-chilling shrieks Grasspelt had ever heard, as the flame ran up and down her pelt, burning her alive. Grasspelt shook, backing away, ears flattened, horror coursing through his veins like ice. Then, all of a sudden, he turned tail and ran, pelt bristling, fear dominating his mind. Ashfoot's desperate caterwauls of pain rang out behind him, until they faltered and seemed to just... stop.

He went on for who knows how long until he was reduced to stumbling, going in circles, not even sure he was headed to the lake any longer. His beautiful homeland burned all around him, an eerie, horrifying, scorching land of fire and flame. The smoke curled in his lungs and he retched, his last meal splattering all over the ground. He was nearly crawling now, when his foggy, hazy, shell-shocked brain registered something: he was crawling downhill. He forced his stinging, blurry eyes open wide, and they registered something else: blue.

The fire's searing heat began to fade behind him as soil turned to dirt and pebbles and sand. Suddenly, he felt something cool wash over him. _Water._ It was the best feeling he'd ever had. Cool, refreshing, wet, blessed water. It was the lake. He'd reached the lake. He slipped completely underwater, letting it ease his burns, refresh his soul. When he came back up, he gasped in the smoke-free air rolling off the lake.

After a couple of minutes, he turned, sorrow instantly edging its way into his heart. His entire territory seemed to be ablaze. But down here, where there was nothing to burn, it seemed to fizzle out. He was saved.

Petalfur and Pebblefoot weren't here, though, he soon realized. _Please, StarClan,_ he prayed, _let them be alright._ He was almost too horrified and worried and shocked and most of all, tired, incredibly tired, to be very much relieved at his own rescue. It seemed almost by accident.

So Grasspelt stayed in the lake, just rested there, lying down with his paws curled under his chest and his chin barely above the water, in the shallow depths of the lake. He watched. He watched as the fire raged, consuming his territory. He watched as, to his surprise, massive dark stormclouds began to gather above the forest. He watched as they broke open, unleashing a torrential downpour upon the land. He felt it too, and he changed his mind about the lake's waters being the best thing he'd ever felt. It drenched his pelt, washing away all traces of soot and ash, washing his mind and heart clean from the horrors he'd just witnessed. It seemed to cleanse his very soul, and he found himself purring, very very softly, a rusty and broken, smoke-corrupted sound, in the midst of the storm. He was too tired to think straight. He didn't know what to think. He couldn't think.

Eventually, among it all, the sputtering fire and lashing rain, prickling pain and seeping cold, he fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: That, my friend, is what we call a doozy.**


	14. Chapter 14: Crowfrost & Rosepetal

**A/N: Wow! I honestly wasn't expecting myself to finish this chapter so quickly! But I had a big burst of inspiration for this story. I actually had an idea for some ways that readers could interact, which I'll talk about in the AN after the chapter. Anyway, I'm not going to be replying to reviews this time, but I'll continue doing that when I finish the next chapter.**

**Anyway, I'm sure you're all eager to read the story, so I'll leave you to it and tell you more at the end!**

* * *

**DAY SIX**

Crowfrost stared into the brackish puddle expectantly. Gradually, it began to shimmer, until two faces floated in its depths. Ashfoot, from WindClan, and Petalfur, from RiverClan. _Hm._ He'd expected more deaths from a fire of that degree. Still, the cats had been driven toward them, and that was certainly to his liking.

"They should be here soon," Pinenose noted at his side.

"And we'll be waiting," Crowfrost rejoined.

The sleek black she-cat cocked her head, as if confused. "What do you mean?"

The black-and-white tom sighed. "Face it, Pinenose, we won't be winning just the two of us. We need more cats. _And_ we need to pick off the competition." He smiled smugly. "And this, my dear, is a perfect opportunity for both."

"Ohhh." But puzzlement still flitted across the younger warrior's face. "But how do we get them to join us?"

"We don't _get_ them to, adder-brain, we _make_ them!" he growled. Honestly, the things he had to put up with. "Remember those traps we were making?"

Her ears flattened. "Yeah," she muttered in embarrassment. "We're making more now, isn't that what you were going to say?"

"Yes." He nodded sagely. "We'll catch as many cats a possible in them. When we find one, we'll decide whether to kill them or make them join us."

Pinenose nodded, though she didn't seem particularly happy with the idea. _She's too soft,_ Crowfrost thought, unsatisfied. _Too soft to win the Games._ But it didn't much matter. He already knew who would win the Games, and that was, of course, himself. He felt a bit bad that Pinenose was going to have to die one of these days, but if all went well, he wouldn't have to kill her himself.

Tawnypelt and Tigerheart, well... they'd picked their own fate when they'd chosen to side with ThunderClan.

* * *

Crowfrost and Pinenose worked hard that day, preparing new traps in which to catch their enemies. They had been working on these traps, in fact, almost since the beginning of the Games. Several were complete, and several more were in progress.

The basic model of their traps was surprisingly simple to make, once you learned how to go about them, but also required an astonishing amount of labor. First you dug a hole straight down, deep enough that a cat would find it difficult to simply jump out. Then, a large amount of sticks and twigs had to be found, long enough to cover the hole but weak enough that they would snap once a cat stepped on them. Willow branches, and other long but thin types, were particularly useful for this. Finally, Crowfrost and Pinenose would apply a layer of leaves and pine needles to conceal the clever traps

They were of Crowfrost's own invention, and the pair had spent countless hours on them. About three were finished, and he and Pinenose spent the remainder of the day completing the fourth.

This one was made at a location on the far edge of ShadowClan's territory, to ensnare WindClan and RiverClan tributes fleeing from the fire. Oh, yes, he remembered the fire. He and Pinenose had been hunting, building up their plentiful prey stock, when a strange rumbling noise met their ears. The pair had scaled a tree, only to see RiverClan's territory up in flames. Horror had swept over Pinenose, but Crowfrost remained. The flickering, dancing fire entranced him, mesmerizing him. He thought of the enemies this would destroy, and worried it would reach his own territory. But the Dark Forest took pity on him and drenched the flames when they had barely crossed the ShadowClan border.

Pinenose's contented sigh broke him out of his reverie. "Finally done!" she exclaimed.

Crowfrost took a step back to survey their work. The hole was finally complete. His claws were filty and muddy, and they ached from the endless digging they'd done. Several of their tips were chipped, which annoyed him to no end - especially now, in the Games, he needed to keep them sharp.

And although the hole was deep enough, he felt it needed something... more. Suddenly, a grin spread across his face.

"What?" Pinenose inquired.

"I have a great idea. Wait here," he responded, and dashed into the undergrowth. Now, where were they...? He was sure he'd seen them somewhere a couple of days ago... Weren't they over by... Ah-ha!

Crowfrost stood before a dry, brittle, browning thornbush. He seized the ends of several long tendrils in his jaws, careful not to get any of the thorns inside of his mouth. Painstakingly, he dragged them back to Pinenose and dropped them at her paws. "For the bottom," he declared triumphantly.

Pinenose looked uncertain. "But... erm... that'd..."

"Don't forget what these are for," Crowfrost growled. "If we want to survive, we need to kill. _Kill_, Pinenose. Besides," he sniffed, "we won't put them in _all_ of the holes. We do need more members."

Pinenose agreed, albeit unhappily, and they spent the remainder of the day lining two of the holes with thorns. One of the traps was set at the ThunderClan-ShadowClan border and another at the RiverClan-ShadowClan border. The other were deep within ShadowClan territory, one quite close to the pair's "camp" and the second further to the south. Their work was finally done, and they settled contentedly beneath a bush. Pinenose's muzzle was tucked under her tail, and Crowfrost rested with his paws beneath his chest. Their pelts were a whiskerlength apart, almost touching, but not quite. Crowfrost's belly was full, and the moon was cold. He laid his head on his paws and sighed.

* * *

Rosepetal woke, bleary-eyed and blinking, as the morning light crept across her fur. The forest was almost too quiet, and she shifted. Daisy's long fur was at her back and her mother was breathing softly.

She rose groggily, ears flat against her head. She had missed the announcement of the previous day's deaths; she'd slept too late. She doubted it would affect her anyway. Nothing affected her anymore. She was stationary, silent, a tree in the forest, while the world moved on around her as it always had. She was waiting, she and Daisy were. Waiting for death to find them. It would sooner or later. At the fangs of the badger that had killed Hazeltail, perhaps, or at the claws of a ShadowClan warrior, or in the icy grip of a flood. The Dark Forest were creative. They would find a way. And so maybe that was why, in the days since Hazeltail's death - how many had it been? Three? Four? - she and Daisy hadn't done a damn thing. They slept beneath the same bush every night, at the foot of a tree, the tree Rosepetal had always practiced climbing as a kit - but she could have mistaken it for a completely different tree. This wasn't her territory. Not anymore. She may as well be in what used to be ShadowClan's lands over the mountain. It felt as though she had never seen it in her life.

And so they stayed, they slept beneath the tree. When the sun showed its face Rosepetal would wake. Their prey store had run out the day before yesterday, and now she spent the days hunting, finding prey to eat. She would toss it at Daisy's paws, but the queen barely ate. All Daisy did was sleep. Sometimes she would stir and pace restlessly at the base of the tree, or watch the nearby stream slip by for hours, but she never spoke. At least, never more than one- or two-word responses, or three words, StarClan willing.

Rosepetal hunted and dreamed of Hazeltail. Hazeltail, the one cat besides Daisy and Toadstep who had ever meant anything to her. Daisy, lazing around the nursery, and Toadstep, with his rash and judgmental personality, got under her skin despite her love for them. She spent half her youth trying and failing to impress Spiderleg, bitterly wondering why he didn't love them. It was Hazeltail who had taught her not to care what he thought; Hazeltail who had taught her how to make her point without saying a word; Hazeltail who had taught her how to talk to a tom, how to make her fur beautiful, how to hold her tongue. Rosepetal loved Daisy, but she rarely saw the creamy-furred queen as she never joined any patrols, and it seemed to Rosepetal that she was almost part of another world, mother to a dozen other kits, with no real knowledge of the meaning or realities of warrior life besides what she had heard. And so sometimes, it seemed to Daisy, that Hazeltail was her mother, her aunt, her best friend, the sister she had never had. It was always Hazeltail, it had always been Hazeltail.

And now Hazeltail was gone.

She still couldn't believe it - wrap her mind around the possibility - and so she didn't. It was so much easier to pretend nothing had happened, in this hellish, surreal world where new was old and old was new, to pretend this was all a bad dream and she would wake up with Toadstep saying, what was wrong with you you were mewing in your sleep, and Hazeltail saying, come on, let's go on a patrol, it'll clear your mind, and Rosepetal thinking of course, yes, that's right, Hazeltail always knows just what to do...

"Rosepetal."

It was so faint, so dry, that Rosepetal almost missed it. But with the silence that had been around her until that moment, it was enough to jolt Rosepetal out of her reverie. The creamy she-cat realized she had been staring into a stream for the past ten minutes. A sharp pang hit her heart as the reality of her current life hit her all over again. She was just about to forget all about the mew and go back to her half-awake state when it came again.

"Rosepetal."

She turned and nearly leaped out of her fur in alarm. Daisy was a mere tail-length away. Her fur was tangled and unkempt, more brown now than cream; her eyes were bloodshot and she swayed on her paws, but she was standing, and more than that, speaking of her own accord.

"M-Mother?" Rosepetal stammered. "What is it?" Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she had to hold down a cough.

"Rosepetal," Daisy repeated, her voice low and rasping, like a leaf dragged along old wood. It was barely audible, and Rosepetal found herself straining toward the cream cat to hear. "You must survive, Rosepetal. You have to live." She leaned forward, her blue eyes filled with a burning intensity that Rosepetal had never seen before. It frightened her.

"But I can't," she protested. "You know that we're both going to - to - "

Daisy shook her head fiercely, and her voice rose to a rusty growl. "No! You - you have to live - and I'm - only holding you back. You'll never live with me still here."

"Mother! What are you saying?!" Rosepetal cried, but she knew very well what her mother was saying.

"Rosepetal," Daisy droned on, almost as if she hadn't heard her, as if this were a recorded message, being repeated back, "after I'm gone, you have to find - someone from - ThunderClan. Graystripe's group. Or even Brambleclaw's."

"But - "

"No! You _have_ to!" Daisy cut her off by thrusting her face into Rosepetal's, forcing the young cat to scramble back. "Promise me! Promise me you will!"

"I - I - I will!" Rosepetal stammered.

The older cat seemed to bunch into herself, a ball of matted cream fur and haunted blue eyes. She nodded and then darted away.

"Mother!" cried Rosepetal, not able to process what was happening. She dashed after the fleeing cat, her legs dark cream blurs beneath her body.

Suddenly, the she-cat stopped, and Rosepetal, unable to halt her momentum, slammed into her mother. They fell to the ground in a tangle of paws and tails until Daisy stood first and scrambled away from her daughter, pelt puffed and tail kinked.

"Get away from here now, Rosepetal," the queen rasped. "I'm not going to tell you again."

Rosepetal suddenly realized where they were - the far border of ThunderClan territory, the one that didn't border any other Clan's - and the Dark Forest's warning: _"Step outside Clan boundaries and you will be killed. Instantly."_

Suddenly, she knew what Daisy's plan was.

_"MOTHER!"_ she screamed, but Daisy had already taken the step. It was prim, poised, as if it was what the older cat had been practicing for her entire life.

Rosepetal's blue eyes were wider than twin moons. In an instant she whipped

around and began to run as hard as she could the other way, beginning to cry again. Behind her, there was a single shriek, long and thin, fading into the distance, and all was still.

_Again,_ Rosepetal thought dimly. _I'm doing it again. Running from my family. Running and letting them be killed. Letting them be... be..._

A sob wracked her thin frame, but she didn't stop. She kept on, dodging bushes, ducking branches, crashing through bracken and fern, as though running were the only thing that could save her, the only thing that could keep her alive and keep her going going going, far past her limits, past what she knew to be true.

Rosepetal ran.

* * *

**A/N: I actually quite liked how this turned out, especially the bit with Rosepetal. This is actually the first time something I've written has made me cry (well, not really cry. Tear up, I guess. I don't cry easily), which was when I was writing the part about Rosepetal and Hazeltail. Man, does anyone else have a problem where they start liking ALL their characters? Writing this made me think about Rosepetal more - as well as the oneshot "Father", which I wrote for my 100 Oneshot Book - and now I have this whole headcanon about her. List of characters writing this has made me like more: Rosepetal, Heathertail, Breezepelt, Bumblestripe, Ashfoot...**

**Sigh. Too bad I have to kill them all.**

**Anyway, I've been thinking about this, and now there are two ways you can interact with the story. Back when I was first writing this, it was on the Official Warriorcats Forum, and people got points for posting in the thread and could use them to sponsor all the different cats, which was where all the sponsoring gifts Daisy and Whitetail and Grasspelt got came from. But I really never go on the forums anymore, so I've decided you guys should be able to influence the story now! It'll make it a lot more fun, especially since there's no way I could decide everyone who died on my own. Anyway, here are the two ways:  
**

**One: You can sponsor cats! When you review, say who you're sponsoring and what you're giving them. You can give them water, one use of any type of herb, prey, a weapon of some sort (make it at least somewhat realistic, though; like deathberries, dog fangs, snake venom, etc), aaand that's about it. After each chapter I'll choose something like three random people by random chance to have their gifts go through.**

**Two: At some points in the story I'll have, say, one of three cats die but you don't know which, and then you can vote on which of the three died. Or something like that. :)**

**Also, I've been thinking about this a lot and I want to write a sequel to it. I don't have all the details planned out yet, but I'll give you the news on that as it comes.**

**Also also, there is currently no updating schedule for this, 'cuz I suck at those. I'll try to get these out in a semi-timely fashion, though. :)**


	15. Chapter 15: Heathertail & Dovewing

**A/N: What is this madness? An update in _THREE DAYS?!_ I guess I'm really inspired on this story, ha. Also I really want to finish this before its one year anniversary, which is sometime in February (it was first posted on another site, remember?) - like that's going to happen, but I'm aiming to be done by March at the latest. Hold me to those words, people. HOLD ME TO THEM.**

**Anyway, I think this story ends its T rating in this chapter. Just a warning. It's not particularly _graphic_, but... well, just read the story. '^_^**

**Also, did I tell you how much I like Heathertail now? I HATED her before this story, but I had to really get in her head to write her, and now I do like her, even if she's a difficult prideful little furball... or I like my version of her anyway, though I don't think she's too OOC xD**

**And as for the sponsoring, Wolfo12345 and Whisper the Ninetails won the random selection to determine whose gifts went through! This gives Rosepetal burnet leaves and a rabbit.**

* * *

She struggled through the shadows and darkness, dragged her body forward step by step. The world blurred and melted alarmingly before her eyes. She growled angrily, pelt bristling. Pain burned beneath her fur as fiercely as the fire that had scorched it. Burns bright as blood marred her skin, eating away at her paw pads, at the fur on her flanks and the spur of her spine. It screamed within her heart, urging her to lie down, stop, give herself up to death.

But she had never been a quitter.

And she never would be.

The flames were gone now, but they lived within her, in the rasp of her breath and the sting of her eyes. She had to keep moving, find shelter, get away, safety, caution, don't stay still, don'tletthemfindyou...

She was panting now. The shadows were all around her, nipping and laughing and darting back and forth. She slowed, trembling. A growl rose unbidden in her throat: _"Stay away!"_

One shoved her to the ground and she crouched as the world spun around her in nauseating blurs of color. The shades hung around her like cobwebs. Her head began to pound, a throbbing tempo that invaded every corner of her being. Her stomach heaved, but she had already spilled its contents hours before. And the shadows laughed like jackals, pummeling her from every side...

_"STAY AWAY!"_ she shrieked. Rocketing to her paws, she darted into the underbrush, but her paw pads screamed in pain and her limbs were weak and heavy, so that she staggered and half-fell through bush and fern. She splashed through streams three times, unable to confirm in her delirious flight whether they were all different or the same one. Finally, when she tripped over a rock and crashed into the dust, she found she had no strength left to rise. Cool liquid lapped at her cheek, and exhaustion swamped her limbs and mind, an inescapable tide. Breath escaped her in a stammering sigh, and she fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

_Her dreams were dark and desolate, empty, filled with whisperings just past hearing and flashes of motion barely beyond seeing and bursts of heat and the pain - always the pain - and all around her the dark, the endless creeping dark..._

* * *

When she woke, the sun shone fitfully through the bushes, a deep honey-gold, swimming at the horizon. She could see more clearly now, and her mind, though moving sluggishly still, was less tangled than it had been. She shivered with the cold; the slightest whisper of wind around her was freezing to the touch, and the world felt hard, pressing jaggedly against her. Her head was light and spinning; for all her life she would think her burns were still on fire. Her entire body was drained and weak, and though she could not remember the last time she had eaten, she did not feel hungry. She shifted, a thin hiss escaping her as her flanks brushed the earth.

Her eyes widened, and she froze on the spot. On the other side of the streambed, the air was distorted and shimmering. Slowly, it darkened, forming into the wavering shape of a black tom. His blue eyes were round and urgent, and he sprang to all four paws the moment he finished materializing. "Heathertail!" he exclaimed.

She lifted her head and rolled into a defensive crouch despite the pain it caused her, unable to believe her eyes. "B...Breezepelt?" Her eyes blazed as a thundershock of pent-up rage electrified her body. _"Breezepelt!_ You! Why, I shhould - should...!" Her tirade devolved into a fit of coughing that stripped her smoky throat raw.

"Save it, Heathertail," he hissed. "You don't even _know_ how much trouble it took me to get he - "

"I don't _care!_" she yowled, staying quiet the furthest thing from her mind. "Get _away_ from me, Breezepelt! If I weren't like - like - like _this_, I'd tear you limb from _limb!_"

"That's exactly why I'm _here!_" he snarled, trying to silence her. "You're on the verge of death! I'm not going to just stand here and let you - and our kits - _die!_"

Heathertail stiffened. Ice flooded her veins, chilling her from the core. All she could do was stare as she realized the secret she had so valiantly protected the past moon was out.

He met her frozen-over gaze with one of fire, his black tail lashing. "I've figured it out! You didn't think anyone _would_, did you? But I can tell when my own _mate_ is pregnant!"

She averted her gaze. When she spoke, her voice was low and bitter. "I'm not your mate. And why would you care anyway, _traitor_?" She spat the last word.

His ears flattened as he growled his next sentence. "I care about _you_, Heathertail! Don't you see that? _Let me help you!_"

"But not anyone else? Not WindClan? Not your _kin_ - Crowfeather, Ashfoot? Not _them?!_" Her voice seethed with rage, volume rising with every word.

"_Don't talk to me about my kin!_" he raged. "Crowfeather deserves to die a _thousand_ deaths, and Ashfoot for birthing him! And the Clans - nothing but weak, snivelling _FOOLS!_ Ridden with kittypets, mouse-brained leaders, unfaithful medicine cats, _worthless_ warriors! WindClan and every other Clan are _pathetic!_ The Dark Forest will make them STRONG, Heathertail! They will do what Onestar - no, what _Windstar_ - could never do!"

_"LISTEN TO YOURSELF, BREEZEPELT!"_ Heathertail screeched. "You've gone _MAD!_ I won't have anything to do with you!"

"But you, Heathertail," he continued, as though she hadn't spoken at all, "_you_ are strong. You always have been. You're not like the others. And your kits - _our_ kits - will be even stronger. You would make a wonderful asset to the Dark For - "

He barely had time to dodge. A shriek of pure rage rose in Heathertail's throat as she launched herself across the stream, claws outstretched. He ducked, and her weakened legs gave out as she hit the ground, causing her to collapse in the grass once more. Her body trembled with pain and anger. "Leave, Breezepelt. Just leave." Her voice shook with barely controlled fury.

"Heathertail, you're ill! You're not thinking straight! Think of our k - "

_"LEAVE!"_ she screamed.

He hesitated, as though not sure how to react, before his gaze hardened. "Fine, be that way," he snapped. "You're not doing anyone a favor by dying - by letting _them_ die."

She squeezed her eyes closed and said nothing, claws scraping the earth. She felt him hovering over her for one last moment before the sound of fading pawsteps met her ears.

She didn't know how he had done it, but when she opened her eyes, he was gone.

* * *

Dovewing was asleep when it happened, chin on her paws, tail swept over her nose, pelt pressed to Bumblestripe's. It was an exhausted and dreamless sleep. In the past days, they had seen no other cats - in person. Dovewing saw them all, and she found she could not handle it. She heard every dying scream, saw every pair of eyes go blank. The desperate words and struggles of every cat in the arena were hers to watch, whether she liked it or not. She gave her comrades reports now and then, and steered them away from other cats and enemies, so that they hadn't had a single fight since the beginning. It was her _duty._ She couldn't let them be hurt. She had to stay alert. But it was taking a toll on her. Seeing so much destruction, she thought, would drive her mad.

And besides that, she spent almost every moment scouting with her eyes and ears, and barely ate or slept, for what if she was distracted and something - something _happened?_ Not that there was much to eat, anyway - it seemed every bit of prey had fled, and they were lucky to get one meal a day. Dovewing herself hadn't eaten in two, and had slept only in short, fitful spells, but Bumblestripe had finally begged her into submission last night, and she had sunk into sleep as soundly and deeply as a stone in the sea.

So deeply did she sleep that she did not notice its approach, not until it was too late. Not until the twig snapped behind her, and the heavy puff of breath rolled over her fur. Still, she would have gone on sleeping but for her sensitive ears. Her eyes snapped open, and the scent hit her nose a split second before she screeched, _"BADGER!"_

She grabbed Bumblestripe beside her, shaking him the rest of the way awake, frantically shoving and nipping Graystripe and Brightheart, until moments later the four of them were running, exploding, _leaping_ through the undergrowth, half of them not even knowing what they were running _from_. But quickly, through the powerful stench wafting over them, the crashig and snapping of undergrowth behind them, the roar that rent their ears, they _knew_.

Dovewing was awake now, fully, terribly awake. Branches whipped her sides and rocks stabbed her paws, terror rocketing off the sides of her chest like a panicked bird. Hungry and tired and injured as they were, they could hardly hope to fight it. Oh, they could - they _could_ fight it, kill it - but at what cost? How many of them would die? One? Two? Three?

And so they ran, legs pumping, paws thumping, hearts pounding, eyes wide, ears pinned back, fur bristling, tails puffed, all along the paws of the badger hammering behind them, its breath hot on their heels, slavering jaws bared and fangs white and gleaming in the thin night air...

As time went on, her legs tired, feeling as though they were being assaulted with liquid fire. Her breaths became harsh and ragged, and the terror she had felt faded to adrenaline-fueled determination, the fluttery flight of fear still glowing from beneath. The badger never faltered, never stopped; could it go on forever, she wondered? Plow on like a bulldozer until the cats could run no more, until it could stamp and trample and rage over them and leave their bodies battered and broken in the mud?

"We - have - " she panted, "ha-have - to _fight!_"

In that moment she stopped, turned, claws unsheathed, but there was a flash of gray past her and a moment of abject terror as the badger bunched itself, leaped, _soaring_ over her head, a lumbering blur of black and white. With a thud it landed, hard, and ripped forward, great claws tearing into the ground as it ran on. Several paces forward Brightheart and Bumblestripe had stopped, and were staring, wide-eyed, and then, then Dovewing knew what had happened. She never knew _why_ - perhaps he had simply been in a place beyond reasoning, beyond her reach, or maybe he was trying to sacrifice himself for them - but Graystripe had rocketed on, and the badger had followed.

Dovewing forced her tired limbs to move as she raced after him. Moments later both of them came into view. Dovewing's heart jumped into her throat as Graystripe suddenly vanished from view, and a thin wail of agony rent the air a milisecond later. The badger, too large to stop its momentum, disappeared as Graystripe had. A sickening _crunch_ sent icy claws into Dovewing's heart.

Her stomach flipped over as she approached and saw what had transpired. There had been a hole - a deep one - in the ground. It must have been cleverly concealed, and it and the surrounding area were littered with snapped branches and scattered leaves. But that wasn't what caused the sneaking tendrils of dread and guilt to seep into her gaze. She felt Bumblestripe and Brightheart creep up behind her, heard their gasps of horrified shock.

The bottom of the hole was lined with wicked thorns, and Graystripe had fallen straight onto them. They had pierced his pelt in dozens of places, impaling him. Blood, dark and slick, was seeping into the dust at the base of the pit. But even so, Graystripe would have gone on living - writhing in agony, opening deeper wounds until he finally bled out - had it not been for the badger. Too big or stupid or fast, it had slung itself right onto Graystripe, snapping his spine, breaking his bones, killing him instantly. It still thrashed, alive, in the pit, bellowing as brambles ensnared it on all sides, too large to avoid them but too heavy to heave itself out. Graystripe's broken body was torn and sundered beneath its paws, splattering the sides with - with -

Dovewing staggered away, stomach heaving and throat clenching up. Nausea threatened to overcome her. Bumblestripe's fur brushed hers, but his eyes were unseeing, trained on the ground. Brightheart stumbled towards them.

"It's all my fault..." Dovewing whispered tremulously. _"It's all my fault!"_

And the badger's cries tore their ears, and Dovewing buried her nose in Bumblestripe's shoulder, and finally it fell silent, silent, and the moon rose and Dovewing pressed her nose to him and cried.

* * *

**A/N: Ahhh don't kill me Graystripe fans! x3 Aaand yeah it's not the Hunger Games without at least _one_ gruesome death!**

**Anyway, Heathertail's part was sooo fun to write. I've been planning that scene, and her pregnancy, since the very beginning. I'm sure some of you had already figured it out, but it was great to do the big reveal after so long! Dovewing's part was less fun to write but at the part where I was describing Graystripe and the badger falling into the pit, I totally zoned out for five minutes in my li'l writing world, and when I looked up there was a whole new diagram on the whiteboard and I was like "wha?!" (I was supposed to be taking notes in science class).**

**Sooo, next chapter should be interesting. The POVs will probably be Pinenose and Leafpool. Yes, yes, so many she-cats, but I want to see Crowfrost's group and I just did Crowfrost last chapter, plus I haven't done Leafpool yet and I need her for... a... reason. x3**

**PS: Also, with the sponsoring, please only say one item to send at a time. It's very expensive, you know! Also, Puzzlefreak PMed me with a concern that the sponsoring thing is against the rules. If someone mentions or warns me about that, I'll change it somehow so that you can still sponsor (like having it be PM-based) but for the moment I'm leaving it as is. After all, if every interactive fanfic was taken down, you'd have to delete half of the Hunger Games fanfics - most of them are Submit Your Own Tributes!**

**PPS: Ooh, vote on the new poll I vote up, if you will! It asks who you most want to win and lets you choose up to four cats.**


	16. Chapter 16: Pinenose & Leafpool

**This chapter brought to you by...**

** Lenovo!**

** For making the laptop that allowed me to type this up faster than normal!**

** Though... I dun like this chapter :(**

** It's okay I guess. I cut it off early though. And took like four days to type it up. Probably because of the DISTINCTIVE LACK OF ACTION. But whatevs, I'm getting the dominos set up so I can knock them all down :))**

** (that was way too cheesy wasn't it)**

** (whatever, enjoy)**

* * *

She awoke to Crowfrost's brooding murmur.

"Daisy and Graystripe. That's good," he mused. "ThunderClan is crumbling at last."

Pinenose stretched and blinked. Her glossy black coat had grown dull in the past half-moon, and it ruffled halfheartedly at her Clanmate's declaration.

He lifted his chin. The rising sun gave the white patches of his fur an orange tint. "Time to check the traps."

Pinenose's ears flattened. She had never been entirely on board with this idea, and the notion of lining them with thorns caused her pelt to prickle. But she nodded and trailed her partner from underneath the spacious bush. There was still an adder left over from the night before, and the two pulled it in half to make a morning meal. Pinenose had never been a fan of adders; the scales got stuck between her teeth, and she preferred amphibians or mammals to prey of a reptilian nature. However, she was glad to have food at all, and ate it without complaint.

Once they had finished, Crowfrost rose to his paws, and Pinenose followed. The first trap they reached was undisturbed, and thankfully so. But as they approached the one set near the RiverClan border, soft gruntings and scrabblings met their ears. A grin spread across Crowfrost's face, and he motioned to Pinenose to keep quiet. Her tail stirred with worry, discontent about what was to come. Killing in defense against another cat who was just as willing to kill, that was one thing. But attacking a trapped cat, helpless to their own fate? That was another.

She crept to the edge of the pit with Crowfrost and stared into the face of a lean white-coated she-cat. The cat smelled very faintly of WindClan, and her yellow eyes narrowed as she bared her teeth at her attackers. It was a bold gesture, for the lines of the she-cat's face were drawn tight in pain; one of her hind legs was twisted awkwardly beneath her, and patches of her fur were singed.

"Why, hello there!" Crowfrost greeted the she-cat - Whitetail, as Pinenose remembered - with mock warmth. "So glad we could make your acquaintance today."

"Stay away!" the she-cat growled. She scraped her claws against the side of the pit, but seemed more afraid than forceful.

"Now, now," Crowfrost clucked. "You know you're not getting out of there on your own with that leg of yours."

Pinenose tried to read her partner's expression. She could not tell yet whether the imposing tom planned to kill the WindClan cat or let her join them. He was enjoying himself, that was for sure.

"Don't tell me you mean to help me." Whitetail narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Oh, but of course," Crowfrost announced gaily. He flicked his tail at Pinenose to come forward, and she followed until her paws touched the rim of the trap. Crowfrost leaned down and grasped Whitetail's scruff in his jaws. Pinenose did so as well, digging her claws into the earth for alance. The stubborn white she-cat stiffened as they hauled her over the lip of the pit and onto the grass beyond.

They stepped back, and Whitetail stood quickly, fur ruffled. Her right hind leg was held carefully in the air. "Well - that's great, I guess - but I really must be goi - "

"Oh, not so fast." Crowfrost's kind voice suddenly turned menacing. "We did something for you; it's only _fair_ you do something for us in return."

Her gaze darted between the two of them, and she gave a wavering smile. "I'm sorry but - my Clanmates _do_ need me - a-and - ah..." She lulled into silence, seemed to make a few final calculations, and bolted.

She managed to put up a good chase, but her injury did her no favors, WindClan cat though she was. Finally, Crowfrost gathered the ground beneath him and made a final leap, sending her toppling to the earth. Whitetail cried out in pain; the position put pressure on her injured leg, and her expression wobbled, but Crowfrost made no move to change it. Pinenose hung back. As always, he was making the decisions, and she had no say.

"Funny," he snarled. Whitetail hissed as his claws dug into her chest. "You seem to think you have a choice."

With that, he clambered off of her and pulled her to her paws. She swayed and lowered her ears. Pinenose continually glanced at the injured she-cat as she limped after them back to their makeshift camp.

Upon their return, Crowfrost asked Pinenose to scout out the other traps - and reset them if necessary - while he made sure Whitetail didn't run away. She agreed hesitantly, though she wondered when anyone would have time to hunt if someone would always have to be watching Whitetail - or what use she was to them at all. Perhaps she had to earn Crowfrost's trust to function on her own...

* * *

Pinenose neared their camp, a squirrel hanging from her jaws, when the metal tang of blood hit her nose. Almost dropping her squirrel, she raced towards the camp, heart pounding in her chest. As she burst out of the bushes and tossed her prey to the ground, she opened her jaws to yowl his name, when a low whimper cut through the air. She quickly pinpointed the noise as coming from beneath one of the two bushes. Her eyes widened as she crept forward. Whitetail was curled up in a tight ball under its swaying leaves. Blood, red as deathberries, was seeping onto her plush coat from fresh wounds.

"Whitetail!" Pinenose exclaimed in shock. She could see the damage more clearly now - there were scratches down the WindClan cat's chest and flanks, long but shallow. The bleeding made them look worse than they really were.

She was just about to _do_ something when Crowfrost whisked around the corner with a bundle of leaves in his jaws and a forepaw swathed with cobwebs. His pelt was as unmarked as ever, and his eyes were glowing.

"What happened?!" Pinenose demanded. "I got back an - "

"How were the traps?" he interrupted, placing the leaves on the ground. He moved up to Whitetail, who glared hatefully at him out of eyes misty with pain.

"Well - two were empty - another killed a gray cat and a badger," she stammered.

"A badger?" He gave her a swift glance of surprise. "And you reset it?"

"Well _yes_ but - Crowfrost!" She glared at him. "What _happened?_"

"_Whitetail_ here," he meowed, flicking his tail at her, "required some _persuasion_ to spill the beans on her Clanmates."

Pinenose gaped at him in outright astonishment. Was he implying what she _thought_ he was implying? "C - Cro - _Crowfrost!_" she spluttered. "That's no-ot _like_ you! That's - against - the _warrior_ code!"

Crowfrost turned to fix his burning glare on her. He stepped forward until his nose was a centimeter away from hers, and his voice was menacingly low. "Pinenose. We - are - in - the _Games_. The warrior code has no _meaning_ here. The only thing that has any meaning here is to _survive_, and StarClan help me I will go to _whatever lengths_ I feel are necessary to survive!"

"Bu - "

"And if you have a _problem_ with that, Pinenose," he hissed, "I suggest you _leave. __**Quickly.**_"

"Bu - I - I - no, I'll stay! Please, Crowfrost! I'll stay!"

He stared at her for another moment, eyes narrowed into slits. Then he whipped around, tail whisking about his legs. "Then I expect you will trust my experience and do what I need you to do?"

She swallowed the feeling of unease that swirled in her stomach. Without Crowfrost, she had no chance. She would be dead by morning.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I will."

* * *

_"INTRUDER!"_

Leafpool sprang to her paws at Tigerheart's frenzied cry. The squirrel she had been eating went skidding across the muddy ground. Instinctively, the group of five dre closer together, pelts bristling and claws unsheathed.

Slowly, deliberately, a cat crept out of the undergrowth. She smelled him before she saw him - a scent she knew as well as her own.

_Crowfeather._

Her heart sprang into her throat the moment his name sprang into her mind. The usual jumble of emotion she felt whenever she thought of him swept through her body: regret, confusion, sorrow, resentment, and still, _always_, that faint pulse of love, that electrical fluttering of excitement, both barely alive beneath her skin.

He stepped into the open, and she saw that he was not alone. A ragged WindClan she-cat - Heathertail - slumped against him, looking as if she could barely stand. Cobwebs were plastered rather messily across some parts of her body.

His eyes met hers and darted away lightning-quick.

"Crowfeather," Brambleclaw meowed cautiously. "We don't want to fight you, and - "

"You think I came here to fight?" Crowfeather responded. "You're as harebrained as ever, Brambleclaw." Leafpool could hear his weariness as he spoke, and if it were not so complete that it seeped into his voice, she knew he would have been snapping.

Silence hung thick in the air.

"No," he went on. "I - _we_ - came here to join you. We were caught in the fire. We barely escaped with our lives, you know." His lip curled.

"Why us? Why now?" Brambleclaw demanded.

"Let me think," Crowfeather replied. Sarcasm dripped from his voice. "Ashfoot's dead, and Whitetail's StarClan-knows-where. I happen to come across the cats I spent moons running over mountains with. What should I do?"

"Yeah, yeah," Brambleclaw muttered. "Save it. Are all of you fine with that?"

Murmurs and nods of assent rippled through the small group, and Brambleclaw sighed. "Fine. Come with us. But I need to be able to count on you if we meet Whitetail in battle."

Heathertail stiffened and narrowed her eyes, hissing in his general direction. "Oh yeah? Well what if you meet _Brightheart_ in battle?"

His claws dug into the ground. "That won't happen."

"Well then neither will that," Heathertail growled, and no one cared to challenge her logic as Crowfeather helped her over to a bush, where she curled wearily on the ground.

The tight huddle began to disperse, though tension was still evident in the wary glances the group was giving each other. Squirrelflight moved silently up behind Leafpool and pressed her pelt to hers. The ginger she-cat flashed her sister a sympathetic look, and Leafpool offered a faint, grateful smile.

Leafpool crept up to Heathertail, who regarded the former medicine cat with narrowed eyes, her distaste clear. Leafpool's ears flattened and she meowed as calmly as she could, "You're hurt. I'm going to help you."

"I don't need your help," the tabby growled.

"Don't be stupid, Heathertail," Crowfeather called from behind them. His hoarse voice seemed to settle somewhere in Leafpool's chest, like a stone and a feather all at once. "You need a medicine cat and you know that."

Heathertail turned away and snorted. "Of course _you'd_ say that."

Brambleclaw stepped forward and let out a low, menacing growl. "I'm the last cat to approve of their actions. But if you want to be a part of this group you'd better stop acting like an ass and listen."

Heathertail narrowed her eyes. A quiet hiss escaped her jaws, but she looked away and said nothing.

Leafpool could tell this was going to be a long day.

* * *

**Okay two things. First, the response to Cherrypetal's question about what happens when they die. I was thinking along answer a- they go to StarClan, then the DF is like "why hello there *evilgrin*". And as for the winners for sponsoring, they are Stormfeather of IceClan, who sent dog fangs to Grasspelt, and Gigigue, who sent cobwebs to Heathertail.**

**Next time's POVs:**

**Pebblefoot & Squirrelflight**

**And our evil friend action will be back :)**


	17. Chapter 17: Pebblefoot & Squirrelflight

**Omg. Freaking FINALLY. I spent several days writing this and I must say the beginning could use a bit more work, but I ain't touching this thing again. I'm pretty happy with the end... but... well, you'll just have to read it. I am hoping to update more regularly but as you well know, you can't trust that kind of thing from me. :/**

**Oh! And winners for sponsoring are Whisper the Ninetales, who sent borage leaves to Heathertail, and Fanfic1892, who sent herbs to Dovewing. Since s/he didn't specify, I'll send Dovewing a small mixed bag of herbs, but please be specific if you can. ;D**

* * *

Dead. They were all dead. Rushtail was dead. Petalfur was dead. Grasspelt was off dying in a foxhole somewhere. Pebblefoot felt like the only cat left in the world.

Until he saw them.

He'd been hunting, and failing miserably at it. Having left his scorched territory behind, still weakened from the fire, prey constantly got away from his seeking claws. How he missed RiverClan's territory! Here, under the ominous gaze of the pine trees, there were no streams, none to soothe his burns and offer a bounty of fish to eat. Still, he'd managed to snag a squirrel. Thin, but it'd do. And then, in the trees up ahead, he heard voices.

He promptly bolted through a puddle and ducked behind a boulder that matched his mottled pelt, cursing himself for his weakness. If it weren't for that stardamned fire he'd leap out and shred them, every last one of them.

There they were, strolling confidently along, as though they owned the place. He supposed they did; despite the time that had passed, their ShadowClan reek was clear as day to him. A black-and-white tom - Crowfrost, he'd earned a quite good mark, seventeen, was it? - and the she-cat...

"...be around here, somewhere Pinenose!"

That's right, Pinenose.

They passed him without a second thought, and then, despite common sense screaming in his head, he followed them. Slunk after them. Saw their traps, was impressed, and fell asleep just over the RiverClan border.

The day after, he found their camp. A little group of scraggly bushes, with wide gaps between the shadows of pine boughs - as sunny as it got on ShadowClan territory. They were both there, and another - Whitetail, hunched over a piece of fresh-kill, cobwebs plastered messily over her ruffled pelt.

The day after _that_, he made a decision. He was a fool if he thought he'd win the Games on his own. No, he needed _protection_. And Crowfrost was obviously looking for cats to join his little group; otherwise he'd have killed Whitetail when he found her in that trap. So today, Pebblefoot was going to show himself. He was going to join them. And when victory was close enough to taste, despite the faint twinges of a conscience on its way out - he'd slit their throats in their sleep.

It was time.

He crept closer to their camp, ears pricked, every sense alert. The scents were still fresh, but no mews reached his ears, and it was unthinkable that they'd still be asleep half past dawn. As he came to the edge, his eyes affirmed what he already knew: they were gone.

He sniffed carefully as he skirted its rim. There were many scent trails leading to and from the camp, but most were faint; no, he needed one in particular.

_Aha!_ Fresh ShadowClan scent, with a hint of WindClan. He sent a quick prayer to StarClan that the water would keep them from smelling him prematurely - _no, not StarClan, theysatbytheydidnothing_ - and plunged down the path.

After a brisk five minutes, he could hear them - raised voices, a soft mew - and his nostrils flared. _ThunderClan?_ He ducked behind a bush to watch, scope out the situation.

All three of Crowfrost's group had circled a young ThunderClan she-cat. _She looks like the walking dead,_ he thought grimly. Her mottled cream pelt was ruffled and unkempt, so dirty you could hardly tell its true color. A few wounds, which had obviously gone untreated, parted her fur. But her eyes - her eyes. Bright blue, too bright, too blue. They were haunted. They burned into a Crowfrost's with a feverish strength.

"Don't hurt me." Her voice was low but definite, like she thought she could control them by words alone.

Crowfrost finally broke off from his gaze, licking his chest to hide his discomfort before commenting, "How nice, Pinenose. Fresh blood."

"_Don't,_" she repeated, and this time she stood, claws digging into the ground as she swayed silently. "Don't stop me now."

"Stop you from doing _what,_ sweetheart? Where do you think you're going?" Crowfrost purred silkily, leaning into her face.

"Nowhere of your concern." Her voice was powerful but dry, rasping in the back of her throat.

"Well, _you_ - what was it again? Rosepetal? - _you_, Rosepetal, are coming with us whether you like it or not," he replied smugly. Pebblefoot felt his breath catching in his throat as he watched for what would come next.

She hissed right in his face - specks of spit dotting his muzzle - but made no move to run. His smile widened into a grimace, crossing the line from fake to terrifying.

StarClan - _nonotthem_ - Pebblefoot didn't want to spend time with this cat. He was unhinged. Dangerous. But something in Pebblefoot was stronger than his distaste for the ShadowClan tom, than the danger he would put himself through, than his morals, than his concern for others. The will to live trumped all else. Always had, always would.

_Now or never._

He slid fluidly from the bushes. Everyone swiveled, eyes burning into his pelts like hot coals. Pinenose leaped at him with a sudden yowl of alarm, and he barely managed to duck. He gritted his teeth as she spun out on the ground behind him, paws scrabbling in the dust for a clawhold. Crowfrost stepped forward with a menacing growl. Pebblefoot stood fully and let his claws scrape the earth.

"I want to join," he said bluntly.

Crowfrost stepped forward with a disdainful sniff. "How can we trust you?"

He gave a shrug, causing him to appear far more casual than his jumbled insides proved him to be. "You need me, and I need you."

The black-and-white tom paused for thought, eyes narrowing. Pebblefoot swept on: "Come on. I bet neither of them can fight worth a rat's ass right now" - he glared pointedly at Whitetail and Rosepetal - "and I don't know about her, but she can't have much experience." He affixed his gaze to Pinenose before swinging it back to Crowfrost. "Face it. You're currently the only competent fighter in your group, and you need another."

Crowfrost's eyes, once guarded, had relaxed to an interested gleam by the time Pebblefoot had finished. "I like you," the ShadowClan tom decided, observing, "As far as I can tell, you're honest, and you're a good warrior. You're in. Help _her_ back, why don't you?" He flicked his tail to Rosepetal, who narrowed her eyes, although she was so exhausted she could barely stand.

Pebblefoot allowed her to lean against him as he trailed after a confident Crowfrost, quiet Pinenose, and sour-faced Whitetail. This group was coming along nicely. _If only Grasspelt were here,_ he thought, with a pang of regret he had not tried harder to find his likely-injured Clanmate.

"Here we are," Crowfrost announced, pushing his way through a spray of fern. "Rosepetal, with me. Pebblefoot, you can sleep anywhere that's not claimed."

Pebblefoot nodded as Crowfrost steered Rosepetal under the leaves of a dark, low-spreading bush. Whitetail limped to her nest and flopped heavily onto it. Pinenose examined the meager fresh-kill pile, prodding a vole experimentally.

"Crowfrost, I'm going hunting," she announced loudly.

The black-and-white tom gave a wave of his tail. "Take Pebblefoot with you. And keep watch for danger," he added, as though they wouldn't if he didn't tell them to.

Pebblefoot grimaced; he couldn't hunt worth a mousetail in ShadowClan territory, but this was Pinenose's home, after all, and he could at least protect her if worse came to worst. He hurried after her as she slipped under the shadow of the pines.

The hunting trip went... well. As Pebblefoot predicted, he caught almost nothing, only a sickly-looking shrew. Pinenose, meanwhile, took down a starling and two lizards. They scarcely spoke, and Pebblefoot was constantly on guard.

Halfway back they found their first sign of life besides prey. Pebblefoot stiffened as the wind suddenly changed direction, blowing ThunderClan and... WindClan? scent towards him.

"Get down," he hissed to Pinenose, but she'd already done so. He lifted his chin, pinpointing the location of the enemy cats. He slunk forward before Pinenose could do so, ears pricked, tail stiff, pawsteps light. _There!_ A dark, broad-shouldered tabby, a ginger she-cat, and a gray-black tom. His racing mind attached names to them quickly - how could it not, when there was scarcely a cat in the Clans more famouse than they were?

"Hunting," Pinenose breathed, voice barely a whisper. "Like us."

Everything in Pebblefoot screamed to attack before they did. But he was outnumbered and outmatched. Biting back a hiss of frustration, he turned and skittered away through the undergrowth.

When they returned, Crowfrost eyes brightened with interest at their catch, before narrowing as he noticed their ruffled pelts and swishing tails.

"We came across a patr - group of cats," Pebblefoot stated tetchily. "Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, and Crowfeather."

"So close?" Crowfrost griped; then his muzzle quirked into a predatory smile. "I think we should go after them," he stated. "Rack up a few kills."

Pebblefoot felt a twinge of discomfort at how casually Crowfrost mentioned killing them; after all, that cold disinterest could just as easily be applied to himself.

"Whitetail, Pinenose, and Pebblefoot," he decided. "You go after them."

"What?!" Pebblefoot exploded. "Only three of us? What about you?! You're - "

Crowfrost snarled, startling Pebblefoot into silence as the black-and-white tom growled, "You can't expect me to leave Rosepetal _alone,_ can you?"

"No, but _you_ don't have to stay! Leave Pinenose behind!" Pebblefoot shot back.

Crowfrost bared his teeth. "_I'm_ in charge here, Pebblefoot. I suggest you do what I say, or there could be worse consequences than your losing a battle."

The mottled tom paused, fur spiked with rage and claws curled out. Then his eyes narrowed, and he spun around, tail lashing. "Let's go," he growled.

* * *

Squirrelflight padded through the forest, tasting the air for any sign of prey. Her pelt prickled with discomfort as the two toms she was with drew closer. Brambleclaw, her former mate, the cat who had shunned her for moons, and was in fact still doing so; and Crowfeather, the true father of "her" kits. To make matters worse, they were in unfamiliar territory, with the possibility of danger coming from anywhere around them.

"I, ah, scented a thrush," she announced, perhaps a bit too loudly, for Brambleclaw shot her a glare. Nevertheless, he parted his jaws, nose twitching as he caught the scent. He fell into a hunting crouch, and Squirrelflight followed suit, creeping after the feathered piece of prey. It came into view quickly, and she came to a halt. The gleam of amber eyes told her that Brambleclaw was waiting beneath a nearby bush. Drawing a deep breath, she lunged after the bird, but overshot, paws thumping on the ground a mouselength past it. It exploded towards Brambleclaw with a trill of alarm, and he pounced, breaking its neck with one clean blow. He stood over it, licking his lips.

Squirrelflight fixed him with a stare, equal parts desperate and challenging. _See? See how well we work together?_

But Brambleclaw only said, "Great. Now it's alerted all the other prey in the area."

It was true, but it still stung. It was getting better, though. Slowly but surely she was learning to withstand the remnants of what they had once had being thrown in her face again and again.

"Let's get back to Crowfeather," she muttered, slinking back through the bracken.

A howl shattered the silence.

They shared a single look and pelted towards it.

Crowfeather was slumped at the base of a tree, blood staining his dark fur. Three unfamiliar cats had him cornered. As Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight arrived, they swung around, bristling.

Squirrelflight screeched, launching herself onto the nearest enemy cat. She caught it off-guard, claws digging deep into its glossy black pelt. She and the other cat went tumbling across the ground in a whirl of claws and fur. By the time they came to a stop Squirrelflight had pinned her opponent. Blood roared in the ginger she-cat's ears, green eyes wild with the fire of battle. The black she-cat snarled. Suddenly the wind was knocked out of her and she was blinking up from a rabbitlength away. She gasped for breath as the enemy launched into her and tore clumps of fur from her shoulders and belly.

Squirrelflight regained her breath with a ragged gasp. Lunging forward, she bit deep into the she-cat's chest, back legs kicking out viciously. The black she-cat let go with a hiss and was knocked back several tail-lengths by a powerful kick. Squirrelflight scrambled to her paws and leaped forward, baring her teeth in a savage snarl. The enemy she-cat glanced backwards and her eyes went wide. She backed away and hissed ferally before vanishing into the brush.

Squirrelflight stared after her, panting, when suddenly a screech rent the air. _Brambleclaw!_ She whirled around, panic jolting into her heart. A mottled gray tom had him pinned, paw planted firmly on his chest. His fur was torn and bloody. The gray tom drew back his head and tensed, to lunge, to, to...

A shriek of pure fury tore its way from Squirrelflight's throat. The ground fell away beneath her paws and the world slowed excruciatingly as she bunched her muscles, flung herself forward, soared through the air, slamshocked to real as dig into his shoulder, throw to the ground, tussle and roll and bite and slash. Words ripped through her ears moments late: _"I won't let you hurt him!"_ She ripped blindly at the cat beneath above around her, and then - _boom_ - stars exploded and the world spun - _boom boom_ - she hit the ground hard and firecrackers set off in her mind - _boom boom boom_ - his pawsteps were far too loud struggle upward his mouth a thin hard line - _boom_

_boom_

_boom_

raises his paw bares his teeth can'tstandcan'tstandand

_boom_

_**scREECH as pain EXPLODES and blood** hard and hot and wet - and gasping trying to **SCREAM but metal and** - eyes go wide and he's gone_ - and eyes closed world spins - and open, ebb and flow - take a halting gasp -

And then he was there. He was there, dragged himself across, eyes wavering. He looked breaking.

"Br-ambleclaw," she rasped, painfully, desperately.

"Shhh," he whispered.

"Br-r-amble - " She struggled to prop herself up but couldn't - since when were her limbs so weak - and flopped down and - there was so much she needed to say, so little time and blood leaving her like a river -

Her eyes filled with tears, rolling down her cheeks and mixing with the blood. "I did-n't me-ean to," she choked out. "Ne-ver - w-anted - t' hu-urt you." He was listening now. Oh StarClan, he was listening, his amber eyes so bright.

Words poured out of her, fast and furious. "She was m' sissr, I love 'er, love you - she - came to me, snowy night they'd die" - _green eyes pleading, barely breathing_ - "an' an' an' you wou'nt halftonow, but it was my fault all my fault and I'msorrysosorry an' - an' - _an'_ - "

_"Squirrelflight,"_

His voice was low and thick. Words died unspoken in her throat as she stared up at him with green eyes clouded with pain, barely able to raise them to meet his.

"Squirrelflight," he choked out, pressing his nose to her shoulder. "I forgive you."

Her heart almost stopped.

"I forgive you, Squirrelflight. I forgive you, oh StarClan, I forgive you."

A sigh left her then, barely audible, one last rattling breath ghosting from her chest. It was a sound of utter contentment, of a life fulfilled. The light faded from her eyes and he lurched over her, too weak to go any further, chin settling into her chest fur. He cried softly as blood, his and hers alike, soaked slowly into his striped pelt.

* * *

**;;;-;;;**

**she goes to starclan happy**


	18. Chapter 18: Heathertail & Others

**A/N: Dear God, why can't I ever update quickly?! XD This story is OVER A YEAR OLD now! OVER. A. YEAR. Well. :I Summer is coming up, though, which means I should have plenty of time to write! I mean, I'd like to have this finished before summer break starts, but we all know the chances of that. *rolls eyes***

**Oh, and we have broken the 300 reviews barrier. THAT'S A FREAKING LOT OF REVIEWS. When I started this I had absolutely no idea it would be so popular. I'm pretty much floored by the amount of reviews!**

**Oh, and the sponsors winning this time was some guy/gal who signed as 'Guest' and left thyme for Brambleclaw (and some other stuff, but I'm only giving one thing at a time from each person), and SkyraTwilight812, who sent honey to Grasspelt!**

**Anyway, onto the chapter. Heathertail's POV returns...**

* * *

The pain was deep. Deep and rolling. At first it had been a mere ripple, a disturbance she could almost mistake for an upset stomach; that crow had been a little too old, perhaps, or the stress was getting to her. But it didn't go away, it _grew_, and she felt them shift inside her, and finally she could no longer deny it, could no longer deny that she was having kits and stardamn it, she needed help.

She could barely stand. The dawn light was weak; most of her "teammates" were gone. Under a bush a few tail-lengths away, though, white stood out on a certain she-cat's pelt like the touch of a ghost.

_ "Leafpool,"_ she croaked. She took another step and yelped as a spasm of pain wracked her body. She fell, hating her weakness, hating Leafpool, hating Breezepelt hating _hating_ him.

"Heathe'tail, wha' is it - " Leafpool mumbled sleepily, and then her amber eyes flew open wide. "Oh. Oh stars. You're having them, aren't you?"

"No, I just need to go to the dirtplace. What does it look like, idiot?!" Heathertail growled through gritted teeth.

Leafpool blanched, ignoring the insult or just plain not hearing it. "This is early, isn't it? At least a week too early. And - _Tawnypelt!_"

The dark tortoiseshell shifted in the gloom under the bush, dark green eyes snapping open irritably. "Wha'zzit?"

"Heathertail's having kits. I need you to watch her," Leafpool demanded urgently.

"What the Dark Forest are you gonna be doing?!" Heathertail exploded.

"Hush! You'll lead the enemies right to us!" Tawnypelt hissed angrily.

_Bitch. Hasn't she ever had kits?_ Heathertail thought venomously, knowing full well she had.

"I'm getting herbs," was Leafpool's quick reply. The tabby she-cat hurried into the forest, and Tigerheart, who'd been on guard, sprinted after her.

"Calm down," Tawnypelt soothed, though from the gruff she-cat it sounded more like an order than a comfort. "You're in good paws."

"Oh, yes, the paws of the medicine cat who couldn't keep her job," Heathertail snarled. Another bout of pain clenched her belly, and her claws slid out as her heart began to pound. "Plus Tigerstar's daughter and an ungrateful whelp who trained in the Dark Forest."

Tawnypelt's eyes lit with rage. "Yes, well, you can crawl off and have them yourself, for all I care! Let me know how that goes for you!"

Heathertail let out an annoyed huff, but averted her eyes. She'd gone too far and she knew it.

It seemed to be ages before Leafpool returned. Tawnypelt stared into the trees, tail-tip flicking, muscles tense. Heathertail panted in the dust. The pains were getting worse. Another passed and wrenched a whimper from her throat. At that moment the ThunderClan medicine cat appeared from the undergrowth, jaws stuffed with leaves. Tigerheart followed quickly and dropped a stick at Heathertail's paws.

"Eat this," Leafpool ordered, and shoved a bundle of herbs in Heathertail's face. The WindClan she-cat lapped them up quickly. Despite her inherent dislike for Leafpool, having a medicine cat on the scene made the whole ordeal seem suddenly safer.

"Bite on it when the pain comes," Leafpool added tensely, flicking her tail to the stick. Heathertail pulled it closer and tentatively sunk her teeth into it. The others gathered around her anxiously, their stares hot on her pelt. Was that what she was, a spectacle for them to gawk at? What the hell was _wrong_ with them?!

Tigerheart shuffled away after a moment - squeamish tom, feh - but Tawnypelt stayed, seeming ready to jump into action at any moment, though frustration still smoldered in her dark gaze. Suddenly, Heathertail let out a muffled scream and bit down on the stick. Her teeth ground into the wood, and a small, wet shape slid onto the moss. Leafpool siezed the tiny kit immediately and nipped open its sac. The kit stirred feebly. It seemed too tiny to live. Maybe it _was_ too tiny to live. Heathertail let out a hoarse cry. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

The next few hours were a nightmare. Heathertail was in more pain than she had ever been in in her life as time wore on. It was too early to have her kits, far too early, and despair found her, between the erratic spaces of her heartbeats, between the whimpers and cries wrenched from her throat. Blood soaked into her fur and her vision nearly went black. For the first time since the Games began, she felt truly afraid. Leafpool's face, pale and tense, only confirmed her fears. She could feel the strength leaving her. Her old anger felt worn-out, wearisome, no longer worth it. It sputtered and died and icy claws trailed down her spine. Suddenly and out of nowhere she remembered the last time she had seen Breezepelt laugh. More tears budded in her eyes. _Why, Breezepelt? Why do you have to be such an idiot? Why can't you just let me love you?_

Her struggles weakened; the fire in her chest flickered as somehow, through sobs and screams, she delivered a second kit, and a third. They were so tiny, frighteningly tiny. Fright swamped her, for herself and her kits. "There," whispered Leafpool, as she freed the last kit from its sac. She nestled it by the other two; they let out feeble mewls, squirming and twitching. Their noses wrinkled. They didn't like the scent of blood, masking their mother's with its iron tang.

Heathertail was spent; her struggle was over, and she felt impossibly light. Her head spun; she was too weary to think straight, could barely think at all through the fog. When she told her body to move, it did not respond in a timely fashion. She couldn't feel her paws. Her emotions were hard to grasp; they darted out of reach like minnows in a stream. She felt a floating sense of fear, though, for...

"The kits," she croaked, and struggled to get up, to go toward them. She failed.

"Shh," Leafpool soothed. "Yes, the kits are okay." Her face held a strange, sad sort of softness; an openness that Heathertail had never once seen directed at her, or at any cat.

"Protect them," the tabby demanded, her ragged voice barely above a whisper. "After I'm..."

"I promise. No harm will come to them."

Heathertail tried to be suspicious. _Can't trust her... lying... bi_ - but those amber eyes, gentle, kind. Maybe she couldn't trust Leafpool, betrayer of Clan and kin, but she could trust this cat, this stranger in Leafpool's body.

"I want to see them," she rasped. "I ne-eed - t-o... n-name them."

Leafpool nudged them closer. Three kits, so tiny a stiff wind could blow them away - _no, they're protected, she promised_ - so alone in this world, no mother, no father -

"This one's a tom." Leafpool pointed to a black kit with long legs, tinier even than his siblings. He looked so much like his father her heart clenched. He would be fast, he would be strong. He...

"S... Spiderkit," Heathertail wheezed.

"Another tom." This kit had her fur, pale brown and striped all over, like a leaf in the wind. But the shape of his face, the length of his tail... All she saw now was Breezepelt. She loved him, or she used to, or she wanted to and - and -

"Galekit," she whispered.

Surprise and recognition flashed briefly in Leafpool's eyes, but she moved on without comment, nuzzling the third and last kitten. "The only she-kit."

A fierce burst of love hit Heathertail, even as she held onto reality only by a thread. Her only daughter had soft black fur, and the littlest dash of snow-white above her petite pink nose. "R... R... R-Ravenkit," her mother breathed.

"Ravenkit, Spiderkit, and Galekit," Leafpool recited, a note of sorrow buried deep in her voice. "Those are fine names."

But Heathertail barely heard her. Her kits swam before her eyes as she felt her last scrap of energy fade away. She thought she scented him, thought she saw the faint outline of a black pelt through the trees. She tried to mumble his name; her paws twitched feebly, and for the last time, her eyes closed.

* * *

Somewhere deeper into the territory, Crowfeather stirred and stood, a splitting headache raging behind his forehead. His throat was dry. There was Whitetail, dead. Squirrelflight, dead. Brambleclaw - dead? He stumbled over to the dark tabby, foreboding stirring in his chest. He barely felt anything at the deaths of these newest victims. Was something wrong with him? He should feel something. But there was only a faint throb of sorrow. Their deaths, at this point, were just another drop in the bucket.

"Brambleclaw," he rasped, but the ThunderClan deputy didn't stir. He nudged him gently, then flinched and hissed as it aggravated his headache. Observing closely, he recognized the faint rise and fall of Brambleclaw's chest. He braced himself against the pain and managed to get his body beneath Brambleclaw's, draping the ThunderClan cat over his back. Blood smeared into the black tom's fur as he did so. He began to stagger in the general direction of the camp he'd shared with them, muttering curses under his breath as he went.

"Brambleclaw, if I die because of you, so help me I'll..."

* * *

"See?! I told you it was a bad idea!" Pebblefoot growled. "Whitetail's dead now - if you'd have gone, she wouldn't be!"

"What? Did you care about her?" Crowfrost sneered.

"No, but now we have one fewer set of paws on our side, and that much smaller of a chance to win the Games!" Pebblefoot snapped back.

"Did you succeed?" Crowfrost asked suddenly.

"Wha - I don't know! We were forced to retreat! If _you'd_ have been there, we'd - "

"We succeeded in killing at least one of them, though." Pinenose's voice was bitter but held little anger. She didn't meet Crowfrost's eyes as she spoke.

"Yeah," Pebblefoot muttered. "I killed Squirrelflight. Possibly Brambleclaw, but I didn't stick around long enough to see whether he was dead or not."

"And Crowfeather was out cold," Pinenose added. "He could have been found and killed by a predator by now."

"Wait." Crowfrost's lip curled. "You're telling me Crowfeather was knocked out, Squirrelflight was dead, and Brambleclaw was so badly wounded you think he might have been dead, but _you didn't stick around to finish the job?_"

"Um. Well." A rapid succession of emotions ran across Pebblefoot's face. Finally, he flushed beneath his fur and glanced at Pinenose. "Yes?"

Crowfrost's tail lashed, his eyes narrowed into icy slits. "You. Are. _Idiots._ Both of you. Get back out there and freaking finish what you started!"

"They've probably run off by now," Pinenose pointed out. "If they're still alive, that is. And they were in a pretty big group, if I remember correctly." The unspoken hung in the air as she finished: _They were in a group with Tawnypelt and Tigerheart._ From the uncomfortable look on the black she-cat's face, it was clear she didn't want to fight her Clanmates.

"Just check if they're still there, mouse-brain! If Crowfeather's still unconscious, kill him. If Brambleclaw's too weak to move, finish him off!" Crowfrost yowled.

"What about you? I don't think you should make a fatal mistake twice," Pebblefoot meowed stubbornly.

"Fine. Fine. I'm going. Pinenose, watch Rosepetal. Come on, Pebblefoot." He took several strides into the undergrowth before bounding through the trees, not waiting for his injured teammate to catch up.

* * *

**Back by popular request, the groups updates!**

**Group One**

**Leafpool, Crowfeather, Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, Tigerheart, Galekit, Spiderkit, and Ravenkit: Covered by this chapter.**

**Group Two**

**Crowfrost, Pinenose, Rosepetal, and Pebblefoot: Covered by this chapter as well.**

**Group Three**

**Bumblestripe, Dovewing, and Brightheart: You'll see how they're doing in the next chapter.**

**Group Four**

**Grasspelt: On his own, Grasspelt has been avoiding other cats like the plague. He's managed to find enough prey for himself, and his burns and other wounds haven't been impairing him too much. However, he did run into a fox which managed to wound him before he scurried up a tree, and he'd be in bad shape if he got into another fight. He hopes to wait out the Games, let the other cats kill each other, and emerge the victor.**

**Next time on **_**The Warrior Games**_**, we bring to you the exciting (maybe?) POVs of Bumblestripe and another, not yet determined! And I pledge that it won't take a month! xD**


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